


Just a Fairytale

by GoldenEmpire



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alcoholism, All the couples will have their spot, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anger Managment, Anxiety, Apologetic!Frank, Awkward, Begging, Blackmail, Bullying, Caring!Frank, Caring!Jason, Christmas Parties, Cinderella - Freeform, Cinderella!Nico, Comas - Freeform, Crying, Cuddling, Cutsey, Dark Past, Denial, Depression, Drunk love confessions, Drunkness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fanart, Fights, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay, Homelesness, Hospitals, Illegal Immigrants, Images, Jealousy, Kissing, Lesbian, Little Red Riding Hood!Percy, Love Confession, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Marriage for green card, Modern Fairytales, More denial..., NSFW, Nico needs a hug, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Parallel Stories, Paranoia, Poetry, Poor baby Nico, Postman!Percy, Proposals, Protective Af, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rejection, Rough Sex, SOLDIER - Freeform, Sad, Set in London, Sex, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smut, So much loneliness omg, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempts, TattooParlour!AU, Tension, Threats, Triggers, Twisted Wrists, Unhealthy Relationships, Wolf!Luke, breaking in - Freeform, depressed!luke, drunk phone calls, engagements, fairytale!au, florist!AU, gifs, handjobs, happy endings, hella angsty, house arrest, insecure!nico, physical fights, selective mute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 100,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenEmpire/pseuds/GoldenEmpire
Summary: MODERN FAIRYTALE AU!All the pairings will be focused on in due time....Welcome to Argo Street, and the wild assortment of lonely people who work there. The local florist Cinderella, Nico di Angelo and his Tattooist Prince Charming from across the street! Meet Percy, the postman, forever trying to run away from the Lone Wolf, Luke, who hunts for him on Argo Street. There's Michael Kahale, your lovely barman, and the boy admiring him from a distance, Octavian, the selective-mute with social anxiety. There's Leo, having troubles with the street-fighter with anger-management, Frank, who's grandma Leo is taking care of when he's not in his cafe on Argo Street. Let's not forget about Piper, who meets her sleeping beauty in a less than fairy-tale like situation.Argo Street is full of beauty and dreams and sarcasm and irony and broken hearts.Come on in...Once Upon a time...(ACT 1 (Chapters 1 - 6) - Jason and NicoACT 2 (Chapters 7 - 12) - Luke and PercyACT 3 (Chapters 13 - 18) - Michael and OctavianACT 4 (Chapters 19 - 24) - Frank and LeoACT 5 (Chapters 25 - 30) - Annabeth and Piper)





	1. Act 1, Scene 1

**ACT 1 - JASON and NICO**

**"WEDDING FLOWERS"**

__

_a_ _pub. The light is dim, the corners shadowed in darkness. Several young people sit at the counter. One of them is a beautiful, exotic girl with a feather in her hair. She is drinking whiskey, with no chaser. Next to her sits a hyper-active, barely legal Latino boy, finishing his third shot of tequila, no lime, no salt. They both smell like coffee. The barman is a muscular, tall, scary-looking man who is dishing drinks out to the friends in front of him like it's a corner shop. But despite smiling at the jokes of the Latino tequila drinker, his eyes are on the corner of the bar, where a blonde, sickly-looking boy drinks alone. The peaceful, drowsy atmosphere is interrupted when a wild-looking dark haired boy comes barreling in, screaming that the local hobo was chasing him again. The people in the pub laugh, all except the boy in the corner. The tired looking boy sitting next to the girl smiles, but it doesn't reach his shadowed eyes. He look like he's tired of life, and his vodka glass is already empty._  
_Let's go with him._  
_He's interesting._

_ _

**NICO**

Nico di Angelo had always had a tough life. When he was a child he always thought that it would mean that he'd just have a right great time in heaven after he died. But when he grew up a bit he realized that heaven was just a pile of shit and he was just really, really unlucky. Nico lost his mother, his father, and his wonderful sister Bianca before the age of thirteen. But he hated talking about it, he hated complaining when he knew damn well that others had it worse. Their whole families were killed, they were disabled, they were dying. He was just a sad little orphan boy with a bleak history. It wasn't that bad, really...

When he finally turned eighteen Nico thought it would all change. He left his horrible 'care home' and rented a tiny flat in the suburbs of London. It was ridiculously small and cramped, and no matter how much Nico cleaned he just couldn't seem to get the stains and mould off of the peeling walls. When he finally got his dream job as a florist, it turned out to be more of a nightmare.

Our story starts, and ends, at Argo Street. It was a small, cobbled street lost somewhere in the winding boroughs of London. It came in at one side from the main street and ended at a loop, so the few shops that stood there faced each other. When Nico saw the cosy, cute street, bathed in May sunlight, he was full of hope. He didn't do that often - hope. He preferred to think of the worst outcome so he didn't disappoint himself.

The florist shop - Under the Rainbow - was owned by a lovely woman called Iris who rarely was in the actual shop. Under the Rainbow, like everything else on Argo Street, was tiny. Tiny and sweet smelling, filled with all the flowers Nico could have ever dreamed about. Roses, hyacinths, tulips, daisies. The best part? Nico was allowed to make his own compositions. That's what he always wanted to do, and as he sat through maths and science and english at school he could only think about what colour contemplated what. Maybe that's why all the boys always bullied him...So yeah maybe the street was a dream, and maybe the shop was a dream too, but the people working inside it certainly weren't. When Nico first met Kelli and Drew Tanaka, the two sisters, it was with Iris at his side. They had seemed sweet then, and when they squealed and hugged Nico to welcome him the boy almost gagged at the cloud of face-powder that seemed to surround them. The second Iris was gone though, it was a different damn story.

"...di Angelo!" Drew called in the same bored, all-knowing tone that she usually said everything. It was the middle of the day on a Wednesday, so there were no customers in the Rainbow. Drew took that opportunity to perch herself on the cash desk and file down her fake nails. Kelli also wasn't doing anything productive, scrolling through Instagram on her phone and making faces at the girls she was following, "Di Angelo!" Drew called again, more impatiently. Nico stumbled out of the back where he had been busy sorting through the newly delivered flowers. Some idiot had mixed up a whole load or red and white roses and Nico's hands were bloody from trying to sort them out. Of course, neither of his co-worker's even lifted a finger to help him.

"What?" he asked, exasperated, as he desperately sucked on one of his fingers to try and stop the blood flow.

"Me and Kelli are going out for lunch," Drew said, ignoring the sorry state of Nico's hands. The boy's shoulders slumped. There was a flower petal tangled in his black hair,

"You went yesterday!" the boy protested, "you know that the customers always come later. I won't eat! Again!"

"Jesus, do you hear him Kells?" Drew rolled her eyes as if Nico was being dramatic. The Italian felt himself reddening, "Such a little drama queen. It's just lunch Nico, not the end of the world. Christ, you sound like a spoiled brat when you whine like that," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," Kelli locked her phone and stood up, grabbing her coat, "you'll go when we come back. Not that deep."

Nico fought his anger and frustration. Kelli and Drew were older and, of course, there was two of them. Nico was scared that if he stood up to them they'd make up some horrible lie and tell Iris, and he'd get fired from a job he worked so hard for. Sure, it didn't bring in any big money but Nico didn't need much. He was a simple guy who's biggest treat was getting some Italian food that tasted like home.

"Guys you went out for breakfast too," the boy said, though he sounded half-hearted, knowing he wouldn't win, "I haven't eaten all day."

Kelli shrugged as she and Drew click clicked to the door in their heels, "Are you still complaining?" she sighed, "We told you - you'll go after."

And with that they left. Nico sighed. He wouldn't eat later, because he never got a break. Somehow there was always something for him to do, some flowers to arrange, something to order, something to clean, paperwork to fill out. Even though the girls lazed around all day, Nico never got a moments peace. He was always the one opening and closing the shop, and most days he went hungry. But that was okay, he was used to that.

Nico glanced around the shop. One of the walls was a floor-to-ceiling window where lovely flower arrangements (made by Nico) sat, attracting the customers who decided to venture out onto Argo Street. Another of the walls was dominated by racks of in-season flowers. Since it was late autumn the flowers on display were crocuses and dahlias and begonias. Dyed amber leaves hung from the ceiling, adding to the warm feeling of the shop. Nico lost interest in his bleeding hands for a moment and stared up at the leaves. The afternoon sun made their shadows look like stars.

The merry twinkle of the bell above the door snapped Nico out of his trance. He whirled around, wiping his hands on his green apron, smiling and ready to welcome another customer.

"Jason," he said, surprised, though he really shouldn't have been. Jason Grace was probably the Rainbow's most frequent customer. Afterall, he worked literally opposite the florist's, in a tattoo parlour that he ran with his two friends, Will Solace and Charles Beckendorf.

"Hi," Jason was smiling. And Nico was staring, Christ he was always staring. It was embarrassing really, but you couldn't not stare. Jason was right out of a movie, your typical bad boy. Except he wasn't bad at all, in fact he was probably the kindest, most caring person Nico had ever met. He stood in front of Nico now, dressed in a black t-shirt, his blonde hair pushed back from his startlingly blue eyes. His arms were inked with artwork that he had collected from all around the world. Nico knew the stories of practically all of them, but his favourite one was the soaring eagle on Jason's back, the one he got done in an illegal tattoo parlour in Korea.

"Hey," Nico smiled, and then hurriedly hid his hands behind his back, "Lunch break?"

"Yeah," Jason frowned and tried to look behind Nico's back, "Why are your hands bleeding?"

Nico shrugged and blushed, "Nothing, really. Some rose mixup."

"Here, let me look at it," Jason said, and before Nico could protest, the tattoo artist grabbed him by the shoulders and manoeuvred him so Nico had no choice but to sit up on the desk. Jason pulled out some plasters from his pocket. They were the stupid vampire ones that kids got down at the GP after a blood test. Nico couldn't help but smile. Jason glanced up at him and rolled his eyes, "They're Will's okay? He makes me and Beckendorf carry them everywhere. In case of an emergency."

"Oh," Nico was grinning, "I'm the emergency?"

Jason mirrored his grin, "Give me your hands?"

It was a question, an offer, not an order. Nico was used to orders - do this, do that, stop talking, don't move, work harder - he wasn't used to kindness. And maybe that's why he liked Jason so much. Thread carefully, di Angelo, afterall, you do hate disappointments.

Nico put his hands out in front of him and Jason cradled them in his own carefully. A shot of electricty went through Nico and it took everything in him not to flinch. Jason's hands were warm, but his touch was feathery soft as if he was scared he'd hurt Nico. The Italian watched with bated breath as the artist carefully peeled the protective plastic off of the plasters and with a careful precision pressed them down over the multiple tiny wounds covering Nico's palms. It all felt rather domestic. And scary.

"T-Thanks," Nico said shakily when Jason was done, and he could barely hear himself over his pounding heart. The blonde looked up at him and for a second they were just inches apart, staring. Then Nico slipped off of the table and walked over to the flower display where he started nervously arranging already arranged flowers, "So Will makes you carry around plasters," he said, desperate for Jason to not leave, at least not yet, "What about Beckendorf? What does he make you carry?"

Jason innocently brought out a pocket sized whiskey from his pocket. Nico snorted and then immediately covered his mouth after the noise. Jason's smile just widened,  
"Surprisingly, this is also for emergencies."

"Knowing Beckendorf that's not surprising at all," Nico rolled his eyes. Jason shrugged and held it out to Nico,

"Want some?"

"I don't drink on the job," Nico said immediately, tensing, "A-Actually I don't drink at all."

"It's not like Iris cares," Jason said, but he slipped the bottle back. Nico was glad for it, "Anyway, what I was coming to ask is if you wanna...get lunch. With me."

Nico was surprised to see Jason blush. His heart skipped a beat. Don't hope...

"Can't," Nico said apologetically, "I need to watch the shop."

"When are you getting lunch then?" Jason asked, clearly not wanting to push but at the same time not wanting to give up, "I can wait."

"I...," Nico thought about the shitload of work that Kelli and Drew would find for him when they got back, "I'll probably not have time to get lunch."

Jason frowned, "What? You have to eat man, you're all skin and bones."

Nico felt self-conscious all of a sudden. He didn't know what else to say. He hated complaining,

"Just go without me," Nico went back to nervously arranging the flowers, "we can go eat together some other time."

Jason nodded, and cleared his throat, "Right," he said, "See you 'round then."

Nico listened to the bell chime and felt his heart plummet to the floor. He couldn't help but think that he had just missed out on something big. Idiot, he chided himself mentally, hand closing over a tulip, _it wasn't a date. He wasn't asking you out. He probably pities you because you look like a pile of chicken bones._ And you have no friends.

"We're baaaack," Kelli sang off key as she and Drew strutted into the shop, "Miss us?"

"Not particularly, no," Nico let go of the flower he was crushing.

"Was that Jason?" Drew asked, interested, peering at the Tattoo parlour across the road. The hot pink sign (courtesy of Beckendorf) read HALF-BLOOD TATTOO PARLOUR. Drew didn't wait for Nico to reply, "Ugh, that boy is dreamy."

"You should totally go for him," Kelli said, though her eyes narrowed with obvious jealousy.

"Really?" Drew asked, as if the idea hadn't crossed her mind, "You think we'd suit?"

"Of course, babe," Kelli giggled, but her facial expression said something completely else. Nico looked away in disgust and once again wondered how easy his life would've been if he was a meaner, more social person. It would be easy to split the girls apart and take one over onto his side. Especially if he told them he was gay. Then they'd definately fawn over him and take him in. But in all honesty Nico would pick being the Flower Shop's Cinderella over being a nasty bitch anyday.

 

**JASON**

Jason walked into his Half-Blood with a crestfallen expression as if he just lost a battle. Will and Beckendorf, who were leaning on the counter looking impatient, opened their mouths at the same time.

"What happened?!"

"Did he say yes?"

"Did you go to lunch?!"

"Did you finally have the guts to ask him out?!"

"Would I be here," Jason interrupted them glumily, "If I went to lunch with him?"

Will and Beck exchanged a look, "Oh," Will's expression fell, "He said no?!" he asked in disbelief. Jason shrugged one shoulder,

"I didn't ask...about that. I just wanted to grab lunch with him," he sighed, "but Kelli and Drew, those two witches left him alone to look after the shop so he couldn't."  
Beckendorf frowned, "I could've sworn he didn't eat yesterday either."

"Yeah," Will said, looking up at the ceiling and tapping his chin, "It's not healthy. Those two are not letting him out to eat!"

"You think we should tell Iris?" Beck asked.

"No," Jason rubbed the bridge of his nose, "He hates to make a fuss. Maybe I should just bring him some food?"

"And come face to face with the harpies," Beckendorf shuddered, looking over at the flower shop across the world, "You have a bigger chance of surviving if you catch him tomorrow during lunch time."

"Maybe," Jason sighed, a far-away expression on his face as he gaze at the flower shop. He could just make Nico out through the window, moving around, sorting things out. The Tattoo parlour was considerably darker, especially since there were no customers in right now, only illuminated by the neon signs on the bare brick walls. Take no shit read the closest one, "I hate to know that he's not eating."

"You should have invited him to the pub later," Beck shook his head.

"Drinking on a Wednesday?!" Will exclaimed, outraged. Jason rolled his eyes, his mood lightening a little bit,

"You say that Will but you know you'll be there."

"With you two idiots?" Will grinned, relaxing, "Always."


	2. Act 1, Scene 2

** **

**JASON**

The boy sat sandwiched between Beckendorf and Will at the bar. Olympus was a pub situated right on the corner of Argo Street. It had a typical Victorian-London feel to it. Made of dark wood, with criss-crossed windows and a wooden sign with a laurel hanging above the door. The interior was always dim and smoky, and usually filled with people. But on a Wednesday evening it was rarely packed.

Jason found that he, his two friends, Mike the barman and a random kid in the corner were the only people present. Jason looked sullenly at his whiskey glass, not really feeling like drinking it. He felt like an idiot for not inviting Nico out. They used to do that...before. All off them off of Argo would come down to the pub, but somehow everyone became very mysterious and distant lately. And Nico himself seemed weird around Jason, awkward, like he didn't want to talk to him.

"I think Nico knows I like him," Jason mumbled. He hadn't meant to, but he was miserable and kind of needed to talk to someone. Mike, who was cleaning a glass with a cloth raised an eyebrow,

"Like?" he asked, "Mate, what you feel for him has passed 'like' long ago," he glanced at the guy in the corner. Jason followed his gaze. The kid was pale and sickly-looking, and Jason frowned,

"Is he underage?"

"Nah," Mike lowered his voice, "Eighteen. Saw his ID. He comes here all the time."

"Never seen him," Will said, and his brows furrowed, "He looks...unwell."

"Okay Nurse Solace quit staring," Beckendorf rolled his eyes. The three men turned away quickly, flushing. But Jason's mind was already back on Nico. Everytime he mentally prepared himself to finally ask the guy out, he chickened out. Maybe it was because everytime he stood face-to-face with Nico his mind went blank. Like literally, Jason couldn't think of anything intelligent or charming to say. He was such an idiot. All he wanted to do was not feel weird about wanting to take care of Nico. The boy wasn't eating, wasn't properly looking after himself. Jason felt good fixing up his hands earlier, but he wanted to do more. He wanted to be able to take Nico out to lunch, to make sure that he was sleeping enough, preferably in Jason's bed, wrapped up in his arms...

"Hey guys," A girl appeared seemingly out of nowhere, or maybe Jason just hadn't been paying attention. She was dressed in a white shirt and a black skirt, her messy brown hair in two braids.  She slid into a stool next to Will, "Whiskey please, Mike."

Michael rolled his eyes, "What's with you lot and drinking in the middle of the week?"

"Don't complain, you barely get clients at this time anyway," Piper McLean rolled her eyes. Mike shrugged one muscular shoulder,

"It's not like you guys pay or anything," he scoffed.

"Yeah but your coffee's on the house too," Piper grinned. She worked right next door in a small, cosy cafe called God's Corner and had a tight friendship with Mike. Thing was, God's corner wasn't _actually_ on the corner. Olympus was. 

"And tattoos," Beckendorf interjected, "if you ever want another one."

"Yeah but I get coffee like once every two weeks," Mike protested, putting the cloth over his shoulder, "and I have _one_ tattoo. You guys are here all the time. Do you know how much you cost me?! I'm gonna go bankrupt..."

"This whiskey," Beck held up his empty glass in challenge, "Costs like a twentieth of what your tattoo cost. You owe us a debt."

They all started bickering, but it was more of a friendly banter. Jason smiled. He remembered three years ago when he and Will and Beckendorf had opened their Parlour, and how wary everyone had been of each other. That was before Piper worked in the cafe, and before the florist's even existed. It was better now, when they were all together. 

"Okay," Mike sighed, "it's late. I've gotta close up and call it a day." 

Everyone groaned in disapproval.

"I just got here!" Piper complained. Michael glanced over her head at the lone stranger in the corner, but he was gone. His shoulders slumped and Jason frowned,

"Mike you okay?" he asked. The man looked away,

"Fine. Just tired. So get out," he smiled at them. Then he shoved a halfway finished Jack Daniel's bottle into Piper's hands, "Here. Go drink at home you hippie alcoholic."

"Oh, Leo will be stoked," Piper grinned. She leaned across the bar and kissed Mike on the cheek, "Night Mikey, see ya tomorrow guys!" she waved at the others and then bounded outside. 

"Hey! We live in the same block!" Beckendorf yelled and ran after her. The boys felt really protective of her as she was one of the only girls in their close circle except Reyna, who also worked in the bar every other night, but was too scary for anyone to ever try anything with her, and Silena who worked mornings.

Will and Jason said their goodbyes to Mike and stepped outside. It was dark but London wasn't asleep - traffic, tourists and just the night life made noise bloom just outside the tranquil darkness of Argo Street. 

"My Uber's here," Will smiled, glancing down at the glaring screen of his phone, "Want a ride?"

"I live two blocks away," Jason deadpanned.

"It's always polite to ask," Will shrugged one shoulder. A sleek black car pulled over where Argo Street met the main street. Will waved and the slipped inside and in a moment Jason was alone. He smiled and inhaled the air. It had that fresh crispy smell to it that indicated winter was close. 

"Jason?" 

Surprised, Jason turned around and saw Nico standing behind him, eyes wide. Jason's heart skipped a beat and it was almost painful. Then he smiled - he couldn't stop himself if he tried. He was always smiling around the Italian. 

"Nico," he said, "What are you doing here."

"Um, closing up," Nico said. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck so his voice was muffled. 

"So late?" Jason glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight, "Shit what the hell were you doing in the shop so long?"

Nico was clearly uncomfortable, "Paperwork," he said, "double checking flower deliveries. There's a wedding tomorrow-"

"Were Kelli and Drew with you?" Jason asked though he already knew the answer. Nico didn't reply, just looked down at his shoes, "Christ Neeks, you can't let them put all the work on you."

"I don't mind," Nico said quickly, "But...let's not talk about it, okay?"

Jason looked around the dark street. At night Argo Street wasn't as cheerful and pretty as it was during the day. At night it was just like any other London side road, where anything could happen. And Nico was so small and scrawny...

"Let me walk you home," Jason offered. Nico opened his mouth, looking like he was ready to protest, but then he looked at the darkness nervously,

"Okay," he mumbled, "I live just a little bit away."

Jason nodded and Nico set off, the blonde following close behind. A red night bus rumbled past but other than that the main street was mostly deserted, save for a few random cars. Jason and Nico walked in silence, side by side, but it was weirdly peaceful. The street was illuminated by the golden glow from the overhead lamps. A taxi zoomed past, full of squealing, drunk girls.

"You weren't here last Christmas," Jason said suddenly, "But basically every year we do a kind of Christmas party for Argo street," Nico looked at him with his eyes like two pools of chocolate and Jason's stomach clenched, "It wouldn't make sense for each place to do their own s-since...," Jason swallowed nervously, "There's only three or four people in each joint, so we rent out a hall and-"

"Sounds nice," Nico interrupted his monologue with a small smile. Jason had the words _maybe we could go together?_ at the end of his tongue but then the Lone Wolf stumbled out of a side alleyway. He bent over and heaved the contents of his stomach onto the pavement in front of the two boys. Nico flinched away and Jason scrunched his nose up,

"Christ Luke," he hissed, "what the fuck did you drink?!"

Luke straightened up. He looked about forty, with dirt streaking his face and blood-shot eyes. There was a scar on his cheek that dominated most of his face, and his eyes were unfocused and hazy. Like many other homeless people out there, he was dressed in layers upon layers of old, tattered, smelly clothing. His dirty blonde hair was overgrown, and so was his beard, making him look halfway to a hermit.

"More like what I ate. It sure as hell wasn't fresh!" the man rumbled and straightened up. In this area he was known as the Lone Wolf because he liked to prey on people, but not for money or alcohol, just for a conversation. People were known to spend stupid amounts of time talking to him about life because they didn't know how to tell him to shut up, "How's the whole confessing thing going?" Luke asked with a broad smile as if he didn't just puke up his breakfast, lunch and dinner.

"I haven't been to church," Nico told him, keeping his tone neutral, "So I don't know what you mean by 'confessing.'"

There was a gleam in Luke's eyes, "Don't you now?" and he glanced at Jason as if he knew all his secrets. The blonde's stomach twisted,

"Luke, it's late," he said, "We're gonna go," he grabbed Nico's wrist, desperate to get him away from the old hobo before he said something that would flip Jason's life upside down. 

"Aw, you won't talk to me?" Luke pouted, but Jason shoved past him, pulling Nico along him. His heart pounded, blood rushed to his brain, deafening him for a moment. He only calmed down when they were a good few streets away from Luke.

"What was that about?" Nico asked. Jason shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts,

"Nothing. Just drunk blabbering," he said. Nico went weirdly quiet and only then Jason realised that he was still holding his wrist. He dropped it quickly and cleared his throat, "Jesus I don't even know where I'm going. I might've had too much to drink if I'm honest."

"That's fine," Nico gave him a tight smile. Jason wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss him, just once, just to see what it would be like, just so he had something to remember when he was sad. But he was scared that he'd get addicted, "It's just up there," the Italian pointed overhead at one of the scruffy old buildings. Most of the windows were dark and inviting, "I'd...I'd invite you in but...it really isn't much," Nico sounded like he was apologising.

"No worries," Jason said quickly, smiling, "I should probably go home anyway...work and all tomorrow-"

"Right," Nico laughed awkwardly, "Goodnight."

"Night," Jason said and Nico gave him another smile and then disappeared into one of the shadowy entrances to the building. Jason shivered. He glanced at the block and wondered if Nico had heating in there, or if he laid in his small bed at night and shivered away. Jason hated that though. Nico deserved all the best things in life.

The blonde sighed and turned around and frowned. He had no idea where the fuck he was.

**NICO**

The boy was jolted awake from his nightmare-filled sleep when his alarm went off. The violent start of the day sent his heart into a pounding madness as he sat up in his tiny bed. His room was still dark since it was six in the morning, but he could make out the different shapes. His dresser, littered with fantasy books, his old guitar in the corner from when he liked to play...right now they all looked like crooked shadows from his nightmares. Nico shuddered and quickly switched on the light. It was cold, the heating gone out again, and Nico practically sprinted into the bathroom in hopes that the warm water would chase away the chill in his bones.

No such luck - the water was freezing. 

Cold and miserable, Nico got dressed in his usual attire of a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans. The trousers were ripped and scraped and Nico should've really bought new ones but he had no money for that. Budget was tight. He pulled on the jacket he had since he was sixteen and the scarf he got in a charity shop, and walked outside. 

The quietest London got was right now, in the hours before dawn, where the people in the city were either just waking up or just falling asleep. Nico wished he was in the second category. He was exhausted and the cold morning air didn't help his mood. 

 _It could be worse,_ Nico told himself, _I could be living out on the streets like the Lone Wolf. I could be all alone and hate my job. At least that's good - I like my job. If only Kelli and Drew didn't work there..._

Argo Street was locked and shut and quiet. Nico was usually the first one to come in, to open the shop and sort out floral arrangements for the day. He wouldn't have to be in so early if Kelli and Drew ever helped him out. 

Nico rounded the corner next to the Olympus Pub, still closed for the day. People came in for breakfasts in there a bit later.

"Nico!" the voice startled the boy and he looked up quickly. Michael had his head out of the window on the second floor, where he lived, and was waving. He was unshaved and tired looking, clearly still in his pj's, but his smile made Nico's mood lift a bit, "Gimme a sec, I'll come down!" Mike called and before the florist could protest, his head disappeared out of the window. 

Nico waited a few minutes in the cold, watching his breath make white spirals in front of his face. A rattle of keys alerted him to the fact that Michael was opening the door, and then Nico was being ushered in by the still-in-pj's barman.

"Why are you up so early?" Nico asked as he settled down at one of the tables in the corner. The pub was deliciously warm, the dim lights adding to the cosy atmosphere, and Nico couldn't bring himself to swap it out for the cold flower shop. Usually at this time the place was still closed, and when it did open, at eight, it was Reyna, Mike's co-worker, who was behind the bar. Mike usually slept until noon.

"Weird dreams," Michael shrugged and slid onto the chair opposite Nico, resting his face in his hands. He looked like a sleepy Winnie the Pooh, "You hungry? Breakfast's on the house."

"I...," Nico was about to politely decline but then he remembered that he had a full day ahead of him and a slim chance of a lunch break, "Actually...Sure. Thanks."

"In exchange you'll need to make me a nice bouquet sometime," Mike said mysteriously. 

"Is it for Gwen?" Nico asked, suddenly interested. Gwen lived upstairs with Mike and was his fiancee. Nico rarely got to see her. Mike just smiled,

"None of your business, Pinocchio," he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled a number. The two waited a second before the person on the other side picked up, "Lena! Babe, yeah...full English-Nico's here-" the connection ended abruptly. Michael scowled at the phone and then a girl poked her head from the staff's entrance to the kitchen's,

"Really Mike?" Silena Beauregard was gorgeous as always, even at this early hour. She wore an apron over her pretty floral dress, her dark hair in two braids. She was fresh out of college, and a wonderful cook who worked at Olympus in the mornings, "I'm just in the kitchen, you don't have to call me," she walked over to them and planted a kiss ontop of Nico's head, "Hey babes," she said.

"Hey, Lennie," Nico smiled at the girl. She was like a doting older sister, always taking care of everyone. 

"Is Charlie here by any chance?" the girl asked, almost hesitantly, her cheeks flushing. Everyone knew she had a massive crush on Beckendorf (except him, the oblivious idiot) and Nico couldn't help but find it adorable.

"Nah," Mike yawned and stretched his muscular arms over his head, "but he'll be here for drinks on Friday. Why don't you pop 'round then?"

"I don't drink," Silena said, "You know that."

"Nico doesn't drink either," Michael shrugged, "but he's coming anyway. Right, Neeks?" he turned to the Italian. Nico felt warmth bloom in his chest. _This is what it feels like to have friends,_ he realised suddenly.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "Sure."

"Great," Silena sighed with relief, "I'd hate to be alone among you loose alcoholics. And we can discuss the Christmas party!"

"Sure," Mike waved her off, "now make the man some breakfast. Someone needs to feed him."


	3. Act 1, Scene 3

** **

**NICO**

Nico was working his ass off - as usual - trying to sort out the flower arrangements. It was Friday, and probably one of Nico's best days that month. Because Friday meant drinks out with his friends, with _Jason_. Nico had gone out to the pub after work with the others a few times before, but that had felt forced and awkward since Nico barely knew anyone a few months ago. Now Argo Street was his home, and Nico was buzzing with quiet, lowkeye excitement at the prospect of having somewhere else to go than his cold, cranky apartment.

"Di Angelo," Kelli said, from where she was picking petals off of one of the newly delivered roses, seemingly out of boredom, "I'm hungry. I'm going to lunch."

"Hey!" Drew, who was busy staring out of the window at the Tattoo Parlour on the opposite side of the looped road in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jason, protested, " _I_ was going to go!" she sounded like a whiny child. Kelly shrugged one shoulder,

"Whatever, we can just go together," she turned to Nico with a sickly sweet smile, "You don't mind, do you Nico?" she asked, "You'll go when we go back."

Nico fought a groan. When the two bitches came back they would make him arrange the new begonias that had just come in, and he'd go hungry again. But he didn't feel like arguing because he was scared the girls would force him to close up at a ridiculously late hour again and he'd miss out on seeing his friends.

However before he could agree or disagree (not that his opinion mattered) the bell chimed, indicating someone's entrance. Jason stood in the doorway, dressed in a leather jacket, looking like a crossover between a hot skater boy and a T Bird from Grease. Nico's heart skipped a beat,

" _Jason!_ " Drew gushed, automatically fixing her over hair-sprayed hair, "We were just going out for lunch with Kells! Wanna come with us?" she asked with a disgusting, sultry smile, twirling her hair around her finger, which made her look like a cliche high-school girl. Nico wanted to gag. He wanted to scratch his eyes out. Seeing Drew leering at Jason like an old creep made Nico feel uncomfortable, weird and-

_Jealous._

His hands clenched into fists when Drew leaned in closer to Jason. Kelli stood behind the counter and her eyes shot lightning at her sister's back,

"Thanks for the offer," Jason said - polite as ever -, "but I was actually wondering if you'd like to go get food with me, Neeks," that surprised Nico. Jason was looking at him with his bright eyes, "You couldn't go out last time," the boy smiled, almost shy, "and they opened an Italian place two streets down-"

Kelli and Drew exchanged a confused look. Then Kelli turned her glare to Nico,

"Sorry, but Nico has to look after the shop," Drew put in, her fake smile plastered back on her face. Jason frowned at her,

"Nico did it all week," he said, gently shifting away from her, "Surely you ladies can let him out for one lunch." They really can't, Nico thought bitterly but Jason didn't wait for either of them to reply. He manoeuvred around Drew and grabbed Nico's wrist, "We'll be back in an hour, thanks!" he sent the girls his superman smile and then he was dragging his companion out of the door. Nico was dumbfounded as he stumbled out into the afternoon,

"What the hell was that?!" he spluttered eventually. Jason shrugged and let go of his wrist, grinning,

"A rescue mission," he said, "You need some food."

Nico couldn't fight his smile, "Thanks mom."

"Seriously though," Jason shook his head so some of his blonde hair fell into his eyes, "I don't understand why you put up with those two. They seem like idiots."

"Yeah they're bitches," Nico agreed as he and Jason walked down Argo Street, shoulder to shoulder. The sun peeked shyly from behind the clouds, "but I always dreamed of being a Florist, and the Rainbow is literally all I ever wanted. If dealing with Kelli and Drew is all I have to do to be able to do what I love then it's really not that bad."

"Man, I admire that," Jason smiled. They walked past God's Corner and Piper and Leo waved at them vigorously from behind the counter where they were making coffee and pastries for their lunch guests. Outside Olympus a group of men in dirty overalls stood smoking cigarettes.

When they were walking out into the main road they almost ran right into Percy, one of the postmen from Hermes', which was on the curve of Argo Road. He looked like the devil was chasing him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide,

"Hey Perce," Jason said casually,

"Oh my God," Percy gushed breathlessly, "Save me! The Lone Wolf's after me!"

"Don't you want to talk about the meaning of life?!" the old hobo called, appearing around the corner. Percy squeaked and ducked underneath Nico's arms, sprinting towards the Post Office, his messenger bag smacking against his red waterproof jacket. Nico snorted. Despite bothering virtually everyone, the Lone Wolf seemed to find the perfect target in Percy, and he now barely noticed Jason and Nico as he chased after his prey.

"What about you?" Nico asked, looking at Jason's profile as they continued to walk, leaving Percy and the wolf to their antics. Nico noticed that Jason had a tiny scar on his upper lip, and mentally noted to ask about it later. The Italian wanted to reach out and brush Jason's golden hair from his forehead, or better yet, tangle his hands in it and pull Jason down for a kiss. _Idiot, idiot, idiot_ , Nico scolded himself, flushing, "Have you always wanted to be a Tattoo artist?"

"Nah," he and Jason were now on the main street, pushing past people hurrying to different food joints, "For a long time I wanted to be a pilot. But in college I met Will, the twat, and he got me into Tattoos."

"Yeah, well, you're very good at them," Nico said, glancing at the ink peeking over Jason's collar and up his neck, "I'm glad you're not a pilot. I'd be scared to get on your plane."

"Honestly, me too," Jason smiled at him in a way that made Nico's heart melt into a pile of goo. The blonde stopped suddenly, "This is the place!" he said, pointing at the restaurant they stood in front of. Nico followed Jason inside after a moment of breathless hesitation, feeling stupidly like it was a date.

** **

**JASON**

When Jason saw Nico again it was that same evening, and yet it felt like he hadn't seen him for ages, like his heart was aching, missing his warmth, his smell. Jason was sitting at two tables pushed together with Will, Leo and Piper, Beckendorf off to the side chatting to Silena, when Nico walked in. Jason's breath caught and he felt as if someone had slapped him, but in a good way...it was a weird feeling but he couldn't keep his eyes off of the Italian as the boy shyly waved at them and walked over to their table.

Jason stared, and wondered how the hell he had forgotten so many things about Nico. The way one piece of his black hair made a messy curl on his forehead, the tiny spray of freckles across his cute nose, the way the sleeves of his too big shirt fell over his hands so only his slim, pale fingers peeked out.

"Hi," the boy said, sliding into the empty seat next to Jason. The blonde felt his pulse escalate as his arm brushed against Nico's. It was stupid, it wasn't like Jason had never had a crush on anyone before. He had have, he kissed people, slept with them, he wasn't some inexperienced teenager...but with Nico he felt like he was. And he felt like Nico was his first love, a stupid heart ache.

"Nico," Leo said quickly, a smile blooming on his face. He worked at the Cafe, God's Corner, with Piper, and was also conveniently her roommate. The skinny, scrawny boy looked about fifteen but he was eighteen really. It didn't stop him from being a hyperactive, immature little shit, and everyone loved him for it, "Let me tell you about my sugar-mommy!"

"No," Will groaned, "Please I don't want to hear about it again!"

Nico's cute eyebrows creased, "Leo, you go yourself a _sugar-mommy_?!"

Leo waved the question off, "Technically. Kinda. Don't sweat it brother," he grinned and sipped at his drink, "She doesn't pay me for sex, I'm not into Milfs..."

Before he could continue, the door opened. Percy walked through the hazy interior of the pub quickly, dressed in his usual red postman cape, his footsteps drowned out by laughs and voices. The pub was full (obviously - it was Friday) but Percy spotted them immediately,

"Hey you lot," he squished in next to Leo, "What's going on?"

"We're waiting for Mike to get off so we can discuss the partaaaay," Leo sang. As if summoned, Michael appeared next to their table, dressed in his usual uniform of a white shirt and a bow tie.

"Nico, Percy," he nodded at the two guys, "Drinks?"

"I'll have vodka with lemonade," Percy said quickly, "The blue one, yeah?"

Mike rolled his eyes fondly, "Sure man. Nico?"

"Coke," Nico said, looking uncomfortable, tugging on his sleeves under the table.

"At least not water like Silena," Mike nodded. That seemed to relax Nico and when the bartender disappeared, Leo went back to his intriguing story, filling Percy in quickly. Nobody seemed to mind that Nico wasn't drinking.

"...so this old lady over the internet needs care, so I was like okay. And she's rich. Like Kardashian rich. Crystal lamps and all the shebang," he sounded really excited, "She's kinda scary but not like The Visit scary so I'm not bothered. But her _son_ -"

"I'm sorry I still can't comprehend the fact where you told us you got a sugar mommy," Percy shook his head as their drinks arrived. Leo shrugged,

"Keep up, fishy," he said, "Anyway she wants me to move into her mansion-"

"This ass-hole wants to leave me," Piper sighed, "Can you believe it?"

"Look Pipes," Leo put his hand on her shoulder, "we just aren't working out. It's not you - it's me," he said dramatically. Piper smacked him playfully,

"Speaking of sugar mommies," Will asked, "Do you know who needs one?"

"Luke the hobo?" Leo asked innocently, sipping his alcoholic drink through a straw, "Maybe he'd have enough money to finally take a shower." Jason snorted and Percy went red all of a sudden,

"Hey," he protested, "He doesn't smell that bad! He's alright actually..."

He trailed off as everyone stared at him. Jason frowned and stared at his friend trying to figure out what felt weird about him. He was all fidgety and nervous, but he also looked like his mind was somewhere else. He looked like Mike everytime he looked at the weird blonde stranger in the corner.

"Percy are you feeling okay?" Piper spluttered eventually. Percy just flushed more, "Did the Wolf finally catch you and brainwash you?"

"Forget it," he grumbled, "You guys don't get it."

An awkward silence settled over the table. Will cleared his throat nervously, but then Silena and Beckendorf came over, holding hands and smiling like idiots, and they broke the tension. Jason lost interest in the conversation and took to watching Nico out of the corner of his eye.

The boy was sipping on his coke, looking intently at whoever was speaking. He looked like he was fighting a smile, his eyes sparkling. It was weird, but he actually looked _happy_. It was beautiful. Jason wanted to tell him that, he wanted to ask him out to the Christmas party, he wanted to kiss him. _Jason Grace, you are an idiot.._.What had been a really stupid crush was quickly changing into something a lot bigger, and scarier. Earlier, when Nico was out with Jason for lunch it felt so...weird? Wonderful? Both maybe. The conversation flowed, and Jason had never felt more comfortable with anyone else, if you ignore the fact his heart pounded almost painfully anytime Nico was around. But he wanted more, he wanted to spend more time with Nico, all the time he had.

"Jas?" Nico waved a hand in front of his face. Jason hadn't realised he was full-on staring. Thankfully only Nico noticed, though it still made Jason blush, "You okay?"

"Sure," Jason said and forced his lips to stretch into a smile, "Perfectly fine."

 

**NICO**

The next monday, at midday, the invitations came via Calypso form the post office. Nico would have probably missed them all together, because he was bust scrubbing the floors in the back, if it wasn't for the squeals of Kelli and Drew. When Nico came into the main room, hands still soapy from his work, hair pulled back in a short ponytail, the girls were already ripping their envelopes open, their eyes lit up.

It would have been rude not to invite them, everyone decided on Friday at Olympus. Everyone else from Argo was coming, even Iris had her invite, which was now lying on the front desk alongside Nico's. Ignoring his co-workers, Nico reached for his own invitation. Percy had made them with his friends from the office, and they were all blue with white writing in comic sans out of all the damn fonts.

It was pretty simple, inviting everyone to the Christmas party in two weeks time with a plus one. It promised good food and alcohol. Nico didn't have anyone to take as a plus one. His first thought went out to Jason, but of course he was invited too. Nico hadn't been to a Christmas Party since Primary school, and that had been all disco music and stupid elf costumes. This party would have alcohol and nice clothes and _dancing_. Nico wondered if Jason would dance with him if he got drunk enough. He wondered if he himself even knew how to dance. The answer to both was probably no.

"Ohh," Kelli squealed, gripping her sister's hand, "A Christmas party! Last year's was beautiful..."

"Yeah," Drew grinned, "and Jason danced with me. Maybe this year he'll do something more," she winked. Nico's heart clenched, which was idiotic because he _knew_ that Jas didn't like either of the sisters...which didn't mean that he liked Nico either.

"Yeah," the boy said with a smile, deciding to bury the hatchet, "It'll probably be really nice."

The girls exchanged a look and Nico got a bad feeling in his gut. His hands clenched on his invite on their own accord, crinkling the paper.

"Nico," Drew said, condesending as if she was talking to a child, "The party's a week before Christmas. There will be loads of customers."

"Exactly," Kelli smiled, feiging sympathy, "Someone will have to be here."

"Well, it's not like the shop has to stay open late," Nico shrugged a shoulder, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy, "We can close up and then go to the party after."

"Actually," Kelli crossed her arms over her chest, "That day's an important flower delivery. It comes in at midnight, and someone will have to pick me up."

The two gave him a pointed look.

"Well why _me_?!" Nico asked desperately, feeling anger and hurt boil inside of him suddenly.

"Because I have a purpose - to get with Jason," Drew hissed, "and Kelli already has a dress! God, di Angelo, you're so ungrateful and selfish! Why do you always think about yourself?! Me and Kelli had been here so much longer than you, we did so much for the shop, and you want us to stay in while you plonce around!"

"Besides," Kelli interjected, "You have no clothes to go in, all you have are those holey, disgusting oversized sweaters," Nico glanced at himself self-consciously, and he wanted to get swallowed by the shadows all of a sudden, "we actually want to go. You just want to go so you can make moony eyes at Jason! You're so pathetic! Like Jason would ever look at _you_. He took you out out of pity! You should stop bothering him and hanging around him like some lovestruck brat!"

Nico felt like shit. He felt like he was back in highschool, cornered in the little alley between two buildings, being sneered at by his peers. _Little faggot_ , was their favourite insult and in went beautifully with the punches they threw at him. And just like then, Nico was frozen, unable to defend himself. His heart hurt, his eyes stung with unshed tears. Kelli and Drew smiled broadly,

"Great! Thanks for being a good sport!" Drew said casually, "We're going out to lunch!"

They didn't wait for a reply as they grabbed their coats. They shoved past a customer - a hunched over old lady - on their way out. She glanced after them nervously,

"Bit rude weren't they, sweetie?" she asked Nico with a warm smile. The boy blinked his tears away and tried to smile back,

"How can I help you ma'am?"


	4. Act 1, Scene 4

** **

**NICO**

He didn't want to tell anyone. He didn't want to sound like he was complaining, like he was ungrateful. His life was always hard, horrible even, full of abuse and bullying and death and loneliness, and now he finally had a home, a job he loved, and a  _not being able to go to a Christmas party_ seemed like a tiny, petty thing with all the good things that have come to Nico. He was happy. Or as happy as he could get with his rotten luck, and he didn't want to push it by getting too comfortable, too happy. 

But fuck, he wanted to go. 

He wanted to look nice for once, and go and have fun with his friends, let go of all the stress and anxiety dominating his life. He wanted to be with Jason, like  _properly_ with him, like a boyfriend. He kind of felt like he had been mentally building himself up to maybe  _try_ and talk to the other boy about his feelings, but after Kelli's and Drew's mini-monologue all of the confidence he built up from being around Jason turned to dust. The things they said to him went round in his head like bees as he sorted through flowers and made deliveries.  _Ungrateful, selfish,_ was Nico being selfish? Afterall he knew about Drew's massive crush on Jason and all he thought about was the fact that  _he_ wanted to be with Jason, completely ignoring the girl's feelings. So yeah, she was a bitch, but she wasn't wrong about calling him selfish. The stuff they said about his clothes was true too, if a little unnecessary. Nico's salary as a florist just covered bills and food, and he didn't have the money to go out and buy new clothes. Besides, up until that point he didn't think it was that important. It's not like he wanted people to notice him or anything, and by wearing worn out clothes he just blended into the background. But Kelli's words had made him feel like the Lone Wolf in his tattered, smelly clothing. 

But what hurt most was her last comment. The idea that Jason was only talking to him out of pity made a knot tie itself in Nico's stomach, and it wouldn't fucking untie. What was scary was that he  _believed_ it. He let himself hope that maybe this time it would be different, that Jason was different, that maybe Nico wasn't that awkward, shy college student again, getting rejected in front of everyone by the guy he was crushing on. He thought maybe this could be real. Clearly not.

The thought that he was just a stupid, naive kid and that he had no chances with Jason (or anyone else for the matter) made him miserable.

It was a rainy afternoon, which Nico thought was fitting. Freezing grey rain slammed down onto Argo Street, making the Tattoo Parlour across the road look like a blurry neon shadow. Everything was dark and grey, except the beautiful flowers in the shop. Nico took comfort in them, carefully re-arranging and bunching them together. Kelli and Drew were gone for most of the days now, not only for lunch but also to hunt for dresses and accessories for the party, and when they  _were_ in the shop, they just lazed around all day. Nico was used to doing all the work, but he found that lately he was tired and had no drive, even for his precious flowers, which Kelli and Drew didn't fail to point out every chance they got, calling him lazy and ungrateful. 

The fact that Jason came almost everyday to ask Nico to lunch only fuelled their anger, even though Nico declined every time. It hurt him to do so, to see Jason's expression fall, but he couldn't stop the words  _he'd never look at you_ from ringing in his head every time he saw the blonde artist. It was sickening, but Nico didn't want to give himself any false hope. As the rain  _pit pattered_ against the windows of the flower shop, Nico hoped Jason would give up on trying to...well, trying to do whatever he was doing by taking Nico out.

No such luck. The bell chimed and Nico turned around from the new delivery of pink roses to see Jason standing there, hair wet from the wain, water dripping from his leather jacket, smiling in a way that reminded Nico of the way a kid might smile when their parent is deciding if they should go to school for the day or not. Hopeful. It made Nico uncomfortable so he turned away,

"Hi," he said. 

"Thought you might want to go to lunch with me?" Jason asked nervously, balancing on the balls of his feet. 

"Kelli and Drew are gone," Nico said quietly, "I can't leave the shop."

Jason sighed, and after a moment of silence, he stated, "You're avoiding me."

Nico turned around, flushing, "N-No I'm not!" he spluttered. Jason gave him a tired look,

"Did I do something?" he asked worriedly, brows creasing, "Make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" Nico protested loudly, "No, not at all, you didn't-"

"Then what is it?" Jason asked desperately, "Please, Neeks, everything was fine and now you're acting like..."

"Like what?" Nico tensed, heart hammering, 

"Like I broke your heart or something," Jason groaned in frustration, "I don't understand what's going on between us and-"

Nico was holding his breath and then the bell chimed again. A girl with bright red hair and a green rain-proof jacket popper her head around Jason. She was flushed,

"Hi, sorry are you open?" she asked breathlessly, smiling broadly. Nico had never been so glad for an interruption in his life,

"Yeah, of course," Nico turned to Jason, "We'll finish this later."

"Right," Jason muttered darkly, and then turned around and left, taking Nico's heart with him. The Italian boy's shoulders slumped as he turned to the customer,

"Hi," she said again, buzzing like a child who had too much sugar, "I'm Rachel Elizabeth Dare," she offered Nico her hand. She was so peculiar that it made Nico smile,

"I'm Nico," he introduced himself, "How may I help?"

"Right so," Rachel started explaining, "I'm getting married tomorrow, and I really, really need some cool flowers. No roses please, they're so...basic. Something artistic, poetic, maybe something with a cool meaning? I don't know...I don't really have a theme, I'm just going with it..."

"Well," Nico smiled at the girl yammering away, "what about...," his gaze swept around the shop. He was glad for the distraction, "Some delphinium?" he picked out one of said flowers from a bunch, a tall stem overgrown with tiny little blue flowers. He offered it to Rachel and she took it gingerly, as if scared to break it, "it means boldness."

Rachel smelled them, "They're nice. I like that they're blue. It's...different."

"There's also gladiolus," Nico picked out another tall stem, this time with big, pale pink ombre flowers, "They're perfect for a wedding bouquet. Symbolises strength of character."

Rachel took the flower into her free hand and glanced between the two, nibbling at her lip,

"They're both so beautiful," she sighed, "and artsy."

Nico looked at her, her bright hair and bright jacket and bright personality. It gave him a sense of melancholy, he wished he could ever be so in love with someone to marry them.  _Don't go down that road, di Angelo..._ all of his happy thoughts ended on Jason, as did his sad ones.

"There's also Amaryllis," Nico picked out said flower. It looked like a star, creamy white with crimson splatters in the middle like paint, "They mean dramatic."

Rachel's eyes sparkled, "They're  _perfect_!" she gushed, and dropped the delphinium and gladiolus in her excitement, "Oops," she said apologetically. 

"No worries," her excitement made Nico happy. Rarely anyone appreciated flowers like this girl did. Nico handed her the amaryllis and she inhaled happily. Then her smile fell a bit. Nico saw her hands tighten around the stem,

"Hey," she said softly, an unsure look in her eyes, "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Nico knew what she meant, "Marrying him?"

Rachel nodded and bit her lip, "It's just that...I like him. A lot. We've been together for years and we used to have a spark but...it's kind of burned out now," she admitted quietly, playing with the petals nervously. Nico could sense that she needed to talk to someone about it - but he didn't understand why she chose a random florist for it, "and my family wants us to be together, because he has a good job, and it's expected of us but...," she shook her head, "Maybe I'm just being stupid."

"No!" Nico said, "You're not stupid at all. Love should be new, exciting, something that makes your heart twist and your stomach clench every time you see him," Jason's face flashed in his mind but Nico pushed it away angrily, "Love is like a dream, something you want to achieve. If you and this guy have nothing but appreciation and friendship between you then there's no point spending the rest of your life with him!" he faltered suddenly, flushing. Rachel stared at him, "Sorry, it's really none of my business."

A beautiful smile bloomed on Rachel's face, "He's a lucky guy, that blonde dude," she said softly, "To have someone as passionate as you," Nico felt a pang go through him but before he could say anything, Rachel just said, "I'll have the amaryllis please."

 *** 

The two weeks went by in a blur. Nico drowned himself in his work and trying to negotiate a heater-fix with his landlord. He saw his friends and avoided Jason, who came to Under the Rainbow less and less, burdened by Nico's rejection, and eventually didn't come at all. It hurt. Like real bad. All Kelli and Drew could talk about was the Christmas party, and they did it pretty loudly as if to agitate Nico more. He walked around like a ball of nerves.

Everything changed by one phone call, one winter afternoon, a day before the party.

Nico pressed the phone into his ear harder, making sure that he wasn't missing anything, until it was almost painful, 

"You are cancelling?" he clarified.

" _Yessir,_ " the man on the other side said gruffly. He had a Welsh accent, " _There was a shippin' problem and ye flowers didn't make it yet. They'll be in the day after 'morrow, afternoon maybe._ "

"Right," Nico said, trying to wrap his head around this new information. No delivery meant he didn't have to stay in the shop till midnight the next day, which meant...Nico's face almost split with the smile, "Alright, thankyou, sir."

" _Cheers, mate,_ " the man said and hung up. Nico stared at the phone, and he couldn't stop grinning. Kelli and Drew came in from outside, their hair dusted with snowflakes. Winter had truly hit them three days past, and Argo Street was blanketed in soft white. Fairy-lights strung up by the post office twinkled outside merrily, so even at night the street wasn't scary.

"What are you smiling about?" Kelli sneered, hanging her coat on the peg, "You shouldn't do that - it doesn't suit you."

Nico's smile dropped but the excitement inside him didn't cease one bit. Even the girls' snarkiness couldn't ruin his mood, "They guy from the delivery called."

"Tomorrow night's one?" Drew asked.

"Yeah," Nico was grinning again, "It's cancelled. Which means we can close at normal time!"

Drew and Kelli looked at eachother, and the latter snorted, "You're acting like it means you can go to the party."

Nico's shoulders slumped, his stomach tumbled to the ground, "I can't?"

"Do you know how much work there is?" Drew scoffed, "the party starts at eight, we close at nine. You're looking after the shop and doing the paper work, since me and Kells do it _all the time_."

Nico was ready to argue. He  _wanted_ to argue. But then he remembered Jason, and the fact he didn't come round anymore, and the fact he didn't like Nico, and hanged out with him out of pity. Nico's heart clenched into fists,

"Okay," he muttered.

"Good boy," Drew smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and kudos <3


	5. Act 1, Scene 5

 

 **NICO**  
It was dark outside and Nico was sitting at the front desk, signing the last of the paperwork. He sighed, slipped it into an envelope and put it to the side. Filled with lights, Under the Rainbow was a beacon in the storm. The rest of the street was drowned in darkness, silence and snow, its workers all at the Christmas party. Nico hadn't told any of them he wasn't coming, but he was sure Kelli and Drew would come up with a great excuse for his absence. Nico wondered if he should just lock up and go home. He doubted there would be any customers in the shop since it was past eight. But the idea of sitting in his flat, cold and alone, seemed like an even worse prospect. At least the shop smelled nice, and was warm, and Nico could pretend like he had a purpose here.

He didn't. Everyone else was already in the hall they rented out, a few streets away, having a great time. Nico was stuck here, all alone, with nothing to do but watch the snow fall outside. He could ignore Kelli's and Drew's instructions and just go to the party anyway. But it could possibly get him fired if the girls' turned the story around, and besides, Nico had nothing to wear. He felt like crying. Christmas was just a week away but Nico knew that he'd be alone then too. He didn't keep in contact with his family, and his friends all had places to be for Christmas. Even the Lone Wolf had disappeared off of the streets. Maybe he had a place to go, Nico hoped so. He wouldn't wish this loneliness on anyone.

Once again, his treacherous thoughts strayed to Jason. He wondered if he was having fun at the party, if he was dancing with Drew. He hated the thought of them together, but Nico wasn't a bitter person, he didn't  _want_ to hate Drew. But he was an idiot, and he was in love, and what else was he meant to do? Nico buried his face in his hands and fought a sob. He thought if he avoided Jason the feelings he had would go away, but if anything they just became stronger, and Nico missed Jason so damn much. But the artist had never had feelings for him, and Nico had no more-

 A knocking on the door almost gave Nico a heart attack. He half expected to see Freddie Kruger out in the snowy night, but it was just the ginger customer from two weeks ago, her face pressed against the glass, grinning. She waved at Nico hyper-actively and he gave her a confused look. The girl proceeded to try and play charades, vaguely and dramatically gesturing at Nico until the boy came over and unlocked the door. The girl came in, and with her a gust of cold wind and some snowflakes.

"Rachel," Nico remembered, closing the door. The girl was dusting snow off of her coat, what looked like a black body bag in her hand, "What are you doing here?"

The girl shrugged, "The wedding didn't happen."

"O-Oh," Nico was immediately hit by guilt, like a wall of ice. His stomach twisted. _He_ was the one who told Rachel to not marry the guy! And now he ruined her life...

Rachel hugged him. It was the first physical contact he had in weeks and it made him tense up,

"Thank you," the girl said sincerely, "If it wasn't for you, then I would've made the biggest mistake of my life."

"I-I...," Nico didn't know what to say - he had never stopped a wedding before, "You're welcome?" it came as a question.

"So," Rachel let go of Nico and leaned against the front desk, smirking, "I came here to repay the favour. Help you out, since you already helped me."

"I don't need your help," Nico said, "No offence."

Rachel held up the bag, "You know what this is?"

"Please tell me it's not a body," Nico made a face. _What if Rachel killed Kelli and Drew?!_ Well, Nico wouldn't be mad at her for it. He might not even call the police. 

"No you idiot!" Rachel rolled her eyes. She laid the bag on the front desk, shoving Nico's letters to the side, and unzipped it. Inside was a suit. It was simple, black and white, but it was clear it was made with a practised hand, and that it took a lot of time. It looked expensive,"My fiancee's suit," Rachel said with a soft smile, "He won't need it anymore." 

"I-I...," Nico stared at it, "What?"

"Well, I met some of your friends - Kelli and Drew? I wanted to thank you earlier but I think you were in the back because I couldn't see you. Anyway the two completely ignored me and continued on with their gossip even though I was in the shop. Me, being the nosy bitch I am, listened in and now I know all about the Christmas party and how you can't go," she grinned, an evil gleam in her eyes, "Let's say you're in luck and I'm your fairy godmother," she pressed the suit into Nico's hands with a dramatic flourish. The boy was still staring at her, dumbfounded, "I'll watch the shop. You'll go to the party."

"I-I...I can't take this-" Nico started to protest. Rachel grabbed his shoulders,

"Listen," she said, "My relationship didn't work out, and you're letting the love of your  _life_ pass you by-"

"Bit dramatic."

"Shhhh," Rachel pressed a finger to his lips, "Kid - my point is, you have to go out there and kiss the man you love, for both of us," her smile softened, "Okay?"

"Okay," Nico said numbly,

"Almost like the Fault in Our Stars. Hope nobody dies," she patted Nico's shoulder, "Now off with you, get changed, and Godmamma Dare will call you an uber."

**JASON**

The party was probably good, but Jason wouldn't tell you that. He sat in the corner by himself, nursing a whiskey and gloomily looking at the room. Percy had just come in and was with a random blonde guy, probably his plus one, and was talking to Reyna. Piper and Leo were trying to out-drink each other by the bar manned by Gleeson Hedge, the head Postman at Hermes', who was making a whole row of mimosas and shouting loudly over the music. Chiron, the owner of God's Corner was sitting by them in his wheelchair, watching them fondly. Drew had given up on molesting Jason for the minute and was dancing with an unwilling Will. Kelli had pulled Travis Stoll, from Hermes', onto the dancefloor and was trying to grind of him even though 'Beautiful Girls' was playing. Beckendorf was slow dancing with Silena, and the two looked like they didn't see the world apart from each other. Reyna from Olympus and Hazel from Hermes' were trying to have a chat over the music, a plate of nachos between them. Calypso was just pulling Conor Stoll, both of them from the post office, onto the dancefloor.

Meanwhile Jason was moping about, wondering why Nico wasn't present. The guy couldn't hate him  _that_ much could he?

"Well you look downright miserable," Michael appeared out of nowhere and collapsed onto the chair next to Jason. He himself didn't look that much better. There were dark circles under his eyes. Even the mistletoe, the Christmas lights and the massive Christmas tree near the door didn't cheer Jason up. 

"You don't look all that better," Jason voiced his thoughts and took a gulp of his drink.

"Boy troubles, eh?" Mike offered. 

"How's Gwen?" Jason asked tiredly. He kind of wanted to go home, or corner Nico somewhere and  _force_ him to explain why he was avoiding him. 

"We...eh, we broke off the engagement," Mike said quietly. Jason chocked on his drink,

"W-What?!" 

"Yeah," Michael shrugged, looking at his glass, "It wasn't really working out, and then someone else came along..."

"The boy from the bar," Jason remembered suddenly, "The one with the blonde hair-"

"Octavian," Mike said the name like it was something precious, and Jason immediately thought of Nico, "It was partly because of him, but not really. Things were bad even before that."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier, man?" Jason sighed. Mike shrugged again,

"You were busy pining after Nico," he grinned, "Yes, everyone noticed," he said before Jason even opened his mouth. The blonde sighed and shook his head,

"Nico's avoiding me though. He's not here tonight, probably because he doesn't want to see me."

"Actually," Mike interrupted, "He's not here because Kelli and Drew practically forced him to stay at the shop."

"W-What?!" Jason spluttered. A sudden weight was lifted off his chest. Of course, it didn't explain why Nico turned down all those drink and lunch invitations, but at least it meant that Nico was not here tonight because of someone else, and not Jason. That was a relief, but it also made Jason want to run to the flower shop and ditch the whole party so he could sweep Nico off his feet and, ignoring all the signs and doubts, kiss him.

"Well, I'm going," Michael drained the last of his drink, "Good party and all but-"

"I get it," Jason clasped his shoulder, "Merry Christmas, Mike."

"Merry Christmas," Michael's smile widened, as he looked over Jason's head, "I think your present's here."

Jason turned around, and Mike slipped out of the room. The blonde smiled, and then he forgot how to breathe, and then his heart started pounding. 

Nico had come after all, and he was hovering near the door uncertainly. And he looked  _gorgeous._ Not that Jason didn't like his everyday messy hair, holey sweater look, because he totally did, but now...he didn't know how to describe it. Nico just looked like every girl's (and guy's) dream. His hair was swept to the side, and had that  _I put no effort into this but it still looks flawless_ quality to it. The boy wore a suit that somehow fitted him perfectly and matched his dark eyes and hair. He looked so perfect that Jason kind of wanted to take a picture, and kind of wanted to push him up against the wall and mess him up. 

 "Nico!" Reyna and Hazel came across the room to hug and kiss their friend, "You're here!"

Jason saw Kelli and Drew exchange a disgusted, confused look and he wanted nothing more than to smack the sneers off of their faces. But instead he got up and came over to Nico. The boy looked at him and his eyes brightened and he looked like he was about to smile, but then he stopped himself,

"Hey," Jason said, awkwardly. He didn't know where the boundaries were between them anymore,

"Hi," Nico  _did_ smile then, and Jason smiled back, goofy and stupid.

"Nico!" Kelli rushed over, "What the hell?! You were meant to be looking after the shop!" she tugged at his suit angrily, "And where the hell did you get this from?!"

"Woah, back off," Reyna's eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a purple off-the shoulders dress but that didn't make her look any less scarier.

"The shop's looked after," Nico said simply, "Excuse me, I wanna say hi to the others," and he slipped away like a shadow, leaving a fuming Kelli behind. Jason quickly evacuated himself away from the angry girl and returned to his seat at the table. His mood got better a little bit but he was still confused, and a little bit hurt. He wished Nico explained his feelings to him, and then it would have been so much easier for Jason to sort his own feelings out. Instead the boy watched Nico do a circle around the room, hugging everyone. He looked so gorgeous that Jason's heart clenched. He wanted nothing more than to pull him away from everyone and take him to his apartment, so he could wrap him around in his blankets and be the only one to look at him. 

To his surprise, after Nico was done with his rounds, he came and sat next to him. He had a coke in his hand but Jason barely noticed that because he was too busy staring at Nico's face. Or his lips, to be more specific.

"How did you do it?" Jason asked, "Get away?"

Nico sipped at his coke, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I'm all ears," Jason smiled.

"I'll tell you later away from the music," Nico promised. Or at least it sounded like a promise, "I see you've managed to get away yourself," Nico said, glancing up at Drew.

"Ugh, for now. You're going to need to save me from her," Jason said. Nico smiled shyly, some of his hair falling into his eyes,

"I'll try."

And just like that, everything went back to normal. Jason and Nico talked for almost an hour, about everything and nothing at all. They talked about flowers and tattoos, about new movies, about the party. Everything but their feelings. People came to talk to them, and left after a few minutes. But Nico and Jason stuck together for the whole night. Until Drew decided to come back, like a boomerang. 

"Jasonnnn," she sang and collapsed right into the boy's lap, throwing her arms around his neck and snuggling into his shoulder. Jason flinched away from her, but he couldn't exactly throw her off. She stank of too much perfume and deodorant and makeup. Jason gave Nico a panicked look, and the Italian just snorted into his drink, "I'm soooo drunkkkk," Drew whined, "I don't know what I'm doing, gosh, you need to help meeee..."

She was obviously exaggerating,

"Drew, your sister's right there. She should take you home."

"Why don't  _you_ take me home?" the girl purred, and tried to give Jason a sloppy kiss. It landed on his cheek because the boy turned away. Nico stood up abruptly and disappeared in the crowd before Jason could stop him. He did push Drew off then, out of disgust and annoyance, and the girl stumbled but kept her balance,

"Drew, I'm not interested in you," Jason told her. The girl pouted,

"Oh come on," she bent over, exposing her cleavage, "I see the way you look at me?" she winked at Jason. 

"You're delusional," the boy said. He would have told her something much meaner but it wasn't in his nature. The girl straightened up and suddenly grew completely sober,

"Don't tell me you're interested in that little twat," she growled, and Jason knew she meant Nico. He wanted to yell at her, to push her away. She treated Nico like shit and he wasn't about to take it,

"Yes, actually," his eyes narrowed, "and he's not a little twat. Unlike you, he's a sweet, caring,  _beautiful_ person and I'm in love with him, so stop trying to get me to sleep with you."

Drew kissed her teeth and sneered, "Whatever," she flipped Jason off (classy) and strutted off. Jason got to his feet, the girl already gone from his mind, and tried to spy Nico in the crowd but by then practically everyone was on the dance floor, and in the dim light he couldn't make him out. He stopped the first person he stumbled upon, which was Hazel. 

"Oh, he's outside," the girl said cheerfully, "I think he went with Percy."

**NICO**

Seeing them together, it made him see red. Nico was  _not_ a violent person, but when Drew threw herself all over Jason it made him want to vomit and then punch her in the face. But he felt like a whiny child, especially when  _he's mine_ came into his head. Jason was not an object. Rachel's confidence had given  _him_ confidence and that's why he decided to talk to Jason again, ignoring whatever Kelli and Drew had told him about the artists' feelings towards him. But when Drew had all but declared that she wanted Jason to fuck her, it made all of that confidence disappear.

So that's how Nico found himself outside the hall in the cold, dark street, listening to the music slowly drift through the door. The street was only illuminated by the flickering white fairy-lights in the windows, and Nico was glad for that as he tried to control the shaking of his body. The coldness helped him clear his head but he was afraid the insecurities would sneak back in. 

"Nico?" Percy asked. Nico didn't expect it to be him, he kind of expected (no,  _hoped_ ) that it would be Jason who followed him outside. That he would ditch Drew, and pick Nico over her. Still, when he saw Percy's crestfallen expression that thought disappeared,

"What's wrong?" Nico asked immediately. Percy was usually the cheerful, happy-go-lucky, oblivious comic relief. Now he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he came to lean against the wall next to Nico.

"Guy problems," Percy muttered darkly. He stank of alcohol, "You know that moment when you think someone likes you, but they're just playing with you?" he slurred. Nico didn't know what to say. He had never seen anyone look so heartbroken, well...maybe his own reflection but, "Fuck, Nico, I'm such an  _idiot,_ " Nico was shocked to see that Percy was  _crying._ The evening was already confusing enough with his meltdown. 

"Fuck this," Nico felt anger boil inside of him. Frustration over Jason just fuelled it, "I'll beat him up, whoever he is."

Percy just shook his head. Both of the boys flinched when they heard footsteps pounding down the stairs. Percy peeked into the doorway,

"Shit that's him," he swore. Nico remembered the blonde guy he was with earlier. Percy whirled on Nico, and he looked panicked, "Fuck, let me kiss you."

"W-What?!" Nico spluttered. Percy gripped his shoulders,

"If he sees us then m-maybe...," Percy's lower lip trembled, "Maybe...," he didn't need to finish his sentence, Nico got it. _Maybe he'll get jealous_. Nico pulled him in and their lips met. It felt wrong, so fucking wrong. Percy tasted like alcohol and chocolate cake, and his hands gripped Nico's shoulders in a way that was almost painful. His lips were too chapped, he smelled all weird, and he wasn't  _Jason._ Nico heard the footsteps come to a stop, and Percy must've too, because he quickly pulled away. 

That's when Nico's heart plummeted to the ground.

Instead of seeing that random blonde guy that Percy was with, he saw Jason. Standing there, looking like someone had just hit him with a shovel. His eyes were full of disbelief and... _betrayal?_ Yes, he looked like Nico had just betrayed him. 

"Shit," Percy swore quietly. 

"Is this why?" Jason's voice was trembling as he stared at Nico, completely ignoring Percy, "Is this why you avoided me? Why you didn't want to go out?" his hands clenched into fists, "Christ, why didn't you just tell me?" He sounded so desperate that Nico's heart broke. 

"No, Jason you've misunderstood-" he started saying at then stopped. Jason hadn't misunderstood, Nico  _had_ been kissing Percy. He frowned, "Wait, why do you even care?"

"Are you  _blind_?" Jason yelled. Nico flinched at the sudden raise in his voice,

"I don't get why you're so pissed at me," Nico was confused. His head hurt. The blonde guy that Percy came with stumbled outside,

"Percy?" he asked. He looked vaguely familiar but just then Nico did not care. Percy's eyes filled with tears again,

"Fuck  _you_ ," he whispered brokenly, and then turned on his heel and ran off. The blonde took off after him. Nico rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to steady his nerves,

"Jason, what happened-"

"I saw what happened," Jason said, but he didn't sound angry. He sounded miserable. He sounded broken, "I'll see you around. Sorry for wasting your time," and he disappeared back in the building, and Nico burst out crying. He didn't go back inside, just dragged himself all the way home. When he got to his door he realised he lost one of his shoes, and that just made him cry harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment? Pretty please?


	6. Act 1, Scene 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments and kudos my loves <3

** **

**NICO**

He dragged himself to work the next day even though he really, really didn't want to. The thought that he could accidentally bump into Jason was sickening. After college, where Nico declared his love to one of the popular guys in his class and was publicly rejected, he didn't think love could be more painful. But now it was, and the night after the Christmas Party found Nico curled up in bed, with no will to live. He had replayed last night's events in his head a hundred times, and he still couldn't understand what happened.

Jason acted like he was jealous. He acted like Nico's kiss with Percy hurt him. Which it couldn't have...could it?

For a stupid hour Nico had felt like someone else. He actually felt like he was worth something, especially when the rift between him and Jason disappeared. And now the rift was a gaping hole and Nico couldn't bridge it closed. He was an idiot. All his life he knew he was cursed, that nothing good ever came to him and if it did, he'd always ruin it. After getting away from his abusive father, Nico and his family had been happy, at least for a little while. Then Bianca and their mother had died in the car crash. It was like the world was telling Nico that he didn't deserve to be happy. The excitement he felt at being adopted disappeared when his family turned out to be cold, and the children horrible. He returned to the orphanage and found a little bit of happiness when he went to his boarding college. Until it was ruined by bullying and broken hearts.

Nico thought his curse at Under the Rainbow would be Drew and Kelli, that the happiness he found there would be dimmed by them, and not by Jason. Nico couldn't blame him. All Jason did was try and get close to Nico, and it wasn't his fault that the Italian was too anxious and scared to try and look past his own insecurities and try and understand Jason's feelings.

But Nico had to go to work or risk losing the bed he was sleeping in. Kelli, Drew, Jason...Nico didn't want to see any of them. He just wanted to do his job, to be among his flowers for a while, alone. For the first time in months, Argo Street didn't look like home. The snow had turned to grey slush at the sides of the road, and despite the warm insides of the shops, Nico didn't find them inviting.

When he walked into Under the Rainbow Nico was surprised that instead of seeing Kelli and Drew he saw Iris, the shop owner. She was a middle aged woman, dressed in flowing silks, who Nico saw rarely since she was always travelling and running around. Nico blinked at her,

"Good morning, boss...," he glanced at the clock, making sure he wasn't late. Iris just smiled at him,

"Nico," she had a bouquet of red roses in her hand, "I came to inform you that Kelli and Drew don't work here anymore," when she saw Nico's wide eyes she quickly explained, "Not only did the two get inappropriately drunk last night and say a lot of rude things, but I also heard from the other workers that they did not do anything all day. Therefore, I have fired them," Iris smiled, "But of course I can't leave my most hard-working florist to work all by himself. Something interesting happened last night Nico, when I came to see the shop around midnight."

Nico's blood froze. _Rachel._

The girl came in from the back as if summoned by his thoughts, her wild ginger hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, dressed in a green apron. She was grinning,

"Meet Rachel," Iris smirked, "our new worker."

Rachel squealed and barrelled herself into Nico, hugging him hard as if they had been best friends forever. Nico kind of felt like they had been.

"Well, have to run," Iris said, "Good work!" and with that and a chime of the bell, she was gone out into the winter morning, like a ghost. Rachel let go of Nico, her cheeks flushed red,

"How cool is this?!" she asked excitedly. And then it hit Nico - Drew and Kelli were gone, and with them the ridiculous amount of work he had to do, and their rude comments and their cruel remarks, and Drew's slobbering all over Jason. And in their place was sweet Rachel, who had no other agenda than to find her happiness. _This is my happy moment in life,_ Nico thought, _and it will be ruined soon._ But he was determined to enjoy this tiny but of happiness in the chaos of sadness that was his life so he pulled Rachel into another hug and their laughter mingled together.

"You don't understand how glad I am that you're here," Nico said sincerely. Rachel's eyes sparkled prettily,

"How was the party?" she gushed. Nico's smile fell at the miserable reminder, "Did you kiss? Did you confess your love? How did he react-"

Nico felt tears prickling at his eyes. He didn't want to burden Rachel, but something about her made Nico's mouth open on his own accord and everything spilled out. How because of Jason and Kelli's and Drew's words he was confused, about how he didn't know if Jason even liked him, about how Percy asked him for that stupid kiss and he gave it, and Jason saw them and-

"I think he hates me now," Nico finished brokenly, and then he was sobbing, tears spilling down his cheeks. Rachel gathered him up into her skinny arms as if he was a child and hugged him tightly. Nico hadn't opened up like that to anyone since Bianca, and he felt like shit because he still fucking hoped that it could've been Jason's arms around him, and not Rachel's.

**JASON**

It was an idiotic role reversal. Suddenly Jason found that he was the one avoiding Nico, making sure he never went to the pub at the same time as him, checking Argo Street before he left the Parlour so he didn't run into the boy. It was pathetic really, but Jason felt like his heart had been stamped on. He had all but offered it on a silver platter and Nico had chucked it back in his face. Why was he kissing  _Percy_ anyway?! The boys were friends of course, but Jason never saw them flirt or anything...Percy was drunk, but Nico was sober, so Jason didn't understand why he randomly decided to kiss the postman!

It hurt so much that Jason couldn't even make any tattoos, his hands shaking all the time. He spent the week before Christmas in the back of the shop, filing out paperwork and moping around. Beckendorf and Will let him off, knowing that Jason was having a hard time dealing with the fact that Nico liked someone else. Jason wanted to move on, to get over it but instead he ended up staring at the shoe Nico lost on the night (and Jason had picked up) of the Christmas party as if it would explain to him what was going on. 

The only good thing that came out of the whole ordeal was the fact that Kelli and Drew were fired. Jason had sat at the party on his way to getting black-out drunk and forgetting his problems, when he heard the two girls shouting loudly about how Iris was a bitch and how they hated the shop. They were escorted out but at that point everyone was pretty much too hammered to care. 

Rachel, the new girl working with Nico, seemed nice enough but she made it her life goal to pester Jason. Every time he went into God's Corner or Olympus, or even fucking Hermes' she'd follow him and yammer away in his ear. Things he wanted to hear but didn't believe were true.  _Nico's sorry. He didn't mean that kiss. It's a misunderstanding. He wants to talk. He really likes you he just doesn't know how to tell you. Do you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?_

Of course he did. Jason thought that maybe a week of replaying the scene of Nico kissing another person in his head would make him seem evil, like a villain. But no matter how much he tried to hate the Italian, when he fell asleep at night he still dreamed of waking up with Nico by his side. And maybe that's what made him close the Tattoo Parlour on Christmas night even though he said he'd keep it open. Or maybe it was the fucking shoe. Jason couldn't look at it anymore so he shoved it into an old shoe box in the back, wrapped himself up in his coat and scarf and hat and strode through empty Argo Street. 

He still didn't know what made him do it. He had rejected his sister's invitation to her Christmas dinner so he could 'catch up' on work in Half-Blood, but suddenly he found himself abandoning it. He remembered where Nico lived thankfully, but the area still gave him the creeps. The road was one of those where you were scared you'd get stabbed even in the middle of the day. At night it was just plain scary. Some drunks at the end of the street were singing jingle-bells off tune and so Jason ducked into Nico's doorway quickly before they came closer to him and asked for change. 

The staircase was cranky and old, beer cans littering the steps. The lights didn't work in some places, and where they did they were flickery and unclear. Some shouting came from behind one of the scratched doors and that was the moment that Jason remembered that he had no idea under which number Nico lived. The blonde walked up to the third floor, unsure, hoping to see the Italian outside one of the flats. The only thing he saw was a skinny old cat. 

Jason knocked on a random door and prayed to God that it was Nico's. It wasn't. An middle aged, obese woman with a cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth opened it, squinting at Jason.

"Excuse me do you know where I can find Nico di Angelo?" he asked carefully, politely. 

"Heee?" the woman took a puff of her cigarette, the smoke coming out of her nose, "That lil' rascal? Upstairs boy, door thirteen."

"Thankyou ma'am," Jason said quickly. The woman repeated her 'hee?' and then closed the door violently. Jason shivered. Nico's apartment block really wasn't a nice place. The staircase stank of piss and was horribly cold and damp. Jason didn't like the fact that Nico lived in a place like this - he deserved better.  _You're meant to hate him,_ Jason reprimanded himself. Instead he found himself climbing up the stairs again, about to see the boy who broke his heart so he could give him back his fucking shoe. 

Door number thirteen didn't look any different from the other doors. It was scratched, the once-white paint on it peeling. The light was flickering, making the lime green walls seem even uglier than they were and drowning the stairs going up to higher floors in darkness. Jason still knocked, God knows why. 

When Nico opened, Jason's heart skipped a beat and he realised why. Why he came all this way with a damn shoe. Because it was Nico. Perfect, beautiful Nico in an oversized shirt and sweatpants and messy hair, looking at Jason as if he just saw a ghost. He opened and closed his mouth, clearly at loss for words. Jason cleared his throat,

"I...um, brought your shoe back," he held out the box. 

**NICO**

Nico had never been so ashamed of where he lived. In his nice button-up shirt and jeans and tattoos, Jason looked like some lost model on Nico's battered up couch in his tiny living room. Nico was aware of the state of the building, and he knew his flat was cold and damp, but he just hoped that the tidiness made up for it. There was a tiny Christmas tree on the table and the fairy lights on it were the only source of light in the living groom, a dull white, since Nico didn't want to waste electricity.

"Here," Nico handed Jason a cup of tea to try and warm him up, "Um...thanks for the shoe." 

"Are you really spending Christmas here all alone?" Jason asked softly. Nico felt a pang go through him and he shrugged. Christmas had never been special for him, he had shitty Christmas dinners at the orphanage but he didn't think he ever got a present in his life. Jesus, if he even existed, had abandoned him long ago so Nico wasn't about to celebrate his birthday. Jason looked at him as he sipped on his tea and despite the dim light Nico tried to sort himself out a bit, "You don't have to do that you know," Jason said softly, and Nico's hand froze where it was trying to pat down his hair. He flushed,

"Why are you here, Jason?" he asked hesitantly. Jason put his empty cup on the carpet. The Christmas lights made his hair seem silver, and his face was in the shadows so Nico couldn't read his expression. 

"I came to hear the explanation," Jason's hands clenched into fists, "that I didn't get to hear at the party."

Nico's stomach twisted. He was leaning against the wall and in that position he had height-advantage on Jason, who was on the couch, but it didn't make him feel any more in control. He felt like a stupid kid. A stupid, love-struck kid. 

"I...," he swallowed nervously, "Percy h-he asked...he wanted to make t-this guy jealous a-and...so...um...," Nico was stuttering like a damn idiot, "I let him kiss me a-and..."

"So he just  _asked_ to kiss you?" Jason asked. His tone was neutral but he sounded kind of like he was growling. 

"Yes," Nico mumbled.

"And you just let him?" Jason asked.

"Y-Yes...," Nico wished he could take it back - that dumb, meaningless kiss. Suddenly Jason was on his feet iand Nico flinched when he slammed his hands against the wall on either side of Nico's head, caging him in, his face dangerously close to Nico's. The Italian's heart started pounding furiously as he sucked in a startled gulp of air that he somehow couldn't let back out.

"So if I ask if I can kiss you," Jason's eyes were dark and stormy, "will you let me too? Like you let him?"

Nico wanted to say no. Fuck he wanted to say no because Jason made it out as if he would just kiss anyone and yet somehow he still said, "Yes."

Jason kissed him then, hard and violent, pushing Nico into the wall so he couldn't breathe even if he wanted to. Nico had never kissed anyone before Percy and that had been awkward and bad, but kissing Jason was nothing like it. The blonde kissed Nico almost like he wanted to hurt him, his tongue forcefully pushing past the startled Italian's lips to claim his mouth. Nico was trembling, a rush of pleasure shooting through him. His mind was going round in stupid circles of  _Oh God he's kissing me_ , he didn't know what to do with his hands. Everything was new and confusing and all Nico was completely sure about was that he didn't want Jason to stop kissing him like that. 

But of course, all good things come to an end, and Jason pulled away. Nico finally took in a greedy gulp of air, his lungs burning. His legs felt like jelly, his cheeks like they were on fire. He was too warm in his freezing apartment all of a sudden and Jason was pulling even further away,

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes wide, "I didn't mean to...I just...," he shook his head as if to gather his thoughts, "I should go. I just came to give you the shoe-"

"Don't you dare," Nico said breathlessly. He was desperate to keep Jason near him. Very near - like they had been seconds ago, pressed against each other, "The kiss with Percy...I didn't  _want_ to kiss him-"

"I'm not mad," Jason shook his head, "It's none of my business-"

"No  _listen_ ," Nico was shaking again, the coldness finally breaking through the heat Jason had started inside of him, "I  _wanted_ to kiss you. I still want to," he looked at Jason pleadingly, "I like you, really, a-and..." He knew it sounded lame, but he couldn't get the word  _love_ past his lips. Jason stared at him for a long moment and Nico tried to catch his breath. He half expected for the blonde to just turn around and leave, but instead the boy crossed the room to stand in front of Nico. Suddenly the dark haired boy couldn't look at him, and he dropped his eyes to the carpet. He prepared himself for the rejection. At least Jason would let him down gently. 

Instead the boy cupped Nico's cheek gently and turned him so the boy was looking up at him, as much as he didn't want to, and then Jason kissed him again. This time it was soft and tentative, scared almost. Jason's hand was trembling against Nico's cheek, his lips sliding against Nico's in the sweetest way. Nico kissed back and tried to breathe but he couldn't because he felt like his heart was too big for his chest. Jason's lips were soft, he tasted like toffee. Then his kisses turned more hungry, though not as violent as they had been before. His free hand came down to rest on Nico's waist and when the Italian brought his arms up to wrap around Jason's neck, his shirt rode up and Jason's hand brushed against his bare skin. Nico gasped as he felt his blood rushing south. 

Jason pushed him backwards so the back of Nico's legs hit the couch, causing him to fall back against it. He gasped again when Jason climbed on-top of him, pining him down. The boy could feel something hard against his thigh, and when Jason's shifted, it pressed against his own hard-on. Nico cried out, breaking the kiss and pressing his face against Jason's shoulder to try and control the sudden burst of pleasure he felt. His body shook as he tried to catch his breath and comprehend what just happened. Jason didn't give him the chance as he possessively kissed him again, pushing him back down. 

Nico didn't know whether he wanted to stop or keep going. His world was reduced to Jason's warmth on top of him, and his hot demanding mouth, and his cock pressing against Nico's own, making him melt against the couch. Nico was moaning into his mouth and Jason greedily swallowed every sound, roughly grinding down onto Nico, making the Italian's legs come up to wrap around his waist. Jason finally left Nico's swollen lips alone in favour of attacking his neck with kisses. His hand trailed down to the waistband of Nico's trousers,

"Tell me if you want to stop," Jason whispered, his lips brushing against Nico's neck. The boy just shook his head because he didn't trust his voice, and Jason's hand slipped underneath his sweatpants and into boxers. When his palm first made contact with Nico's hard cock the boy's back arched and he moaned so loudly he could swear the neighbours could hear him. Jason pulled away from his neck, now decorated with hickeys.

**JASON**

Jason had come here to return Nico's damn shoe and now here he was, on top of the boy, his cock in hand. And he was fucking ecstatic about it. The kiss with Percy had pissed him off to no end, no matter the motives behind it, and Jason was determined to claim Nico and make sure the boy was his, and not Percy's or anyone else's. And fuck, seeing Nico like this made Jason want to take a picture. The boy was sprawled out like a cat, his hands gripping at the thin blanket covering the couch. His hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut. He was flushed, Jason could see that even in the dim light from the Christmas lights. Jason felt like a drug addict, who just got another dose of his favourite drug. He couldn't look away from Nico, couldn't stop his hand from moving. With its every twist Nico would just fall apart more, a litany of moans spilling from his swollen lips and going straight to Jason's cock until he couldn't think straight,

"Christ...," Nico was trembling, his hands clenching in the blanket as if he needed something to hold on to, "Oh G-God...," he whined when Jason brushed his thumb against his slit and then the blonde couldn't take it anymore. The sight of Nico made his dick throb, but hearing him had made it unbearable. Jason wanted to rip his pants off and push himself inside the boy, but he knew it was too soon, but  _fuck_ it was so hard to stop himself. Instead Jason shoved his own pants down, his dick standing to attention, and wrapped his hand around both of their erections. Nico let out a sound between a moan and a sob as Jason moved his hand, adding to the delicious, throbbing friction.

"D-Don't stop," Nico whimpered helplessly, "Jason... _Jason..._ I'm going to c-come, please, f-fuck..."

He was blabbering but it was the hottest blabbering Jason had ever heard. He himself was panting for breath, his cock leaking pre-cum all over him and Nico, making everything slicker. It made it easier for Jason to go faster as he felt heat coil in his stomach. He saw Nico's mouth fall open, knew that he was close, so Jason sped up his movements, moving his hand almost furiously. Nico was sobbing, his arm thrown over his eyes, and that's when Jason realised that the boy had never done anything like this - that it was all probably new and confusing. That thought just made Jason harder. He hauled Nico up and into his lap and let go of their cocks for a moment. The boy's eyes were so dark they were almost black,

"Jason," he whispered breathlessly, pressing their foreheads together, "I love you," he whimpered. Jason kissed him, hot and violent, because fuck those words did something to him. The kiss turned sloppy as Jason went back to moving his hand violently, going faster and faster. Nico collapsed against him, reduced to a sobbing, trembling mess, "'m close," he whimpered, "Jason I-I can't-"

Jason twisted his hand just right and with the most wonderful cry Nico spilled over his hand and cock. Feeling the boy shudder against him, clinging onto him, sent Jason over the edge too. His vision blacked out, he wrapped his free arm around Nico's waist and groaned into his neck. The pleasure exploded inside him, leaving his body beautifully numb. The tiredness suddenly hit him and he slumped against the smaller boy, letting out a small, content sigh.

"Jesus, Nico," Jason kissed the side of Nico's head, his mind fuzzy, "I love you."

Nico pulled away to look at him. He still looked dizzy, his hair curling slightly around his temples. He was flushed, his lips swollen...all in all, he looked absolutely fucked and it was the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen. He reached up to brush the curls from Nico's forehead, and then kissed it gently. 

"Merry Christmas."

Nico looked like he was about to cry, "Will you stay?" he asked shakily, uncertainly, "Tonight?"

Jason frowned, surprised that Nico even had to ask, "Of course," he murmured. Nico smiled softly and slipped off of Jason's lap. The blonde gave the little Christmas tree one look, and then followed Nico into the bedroom. It was tiny and full of stuff that Jason couldn't make out in the dark, but clean. And it smelled amazing - like Nico. There was no curtain in the window, and Jason could see the twinkling city stretched out in front of them, awake with Christmas celebrations.

Nico's bed was just as small as the rest of his flat but somehow he and Jason manoeuvred themselves so they were in a comfortable position, pressed close together. Jason's heart was beating ridiculously fast as he wrapped Nico up in the blankets, making sure he was warm. After his climax everything got really cold and he was determined to make sure Nico didn't catch a cold. He himself was still thrumming with soft pleasure, and he just wanted to be close to the other boy. 

"We have work tomorrow," Nico mumbled from his little cocoon. Jason tugged his shirt off, threw it to the side and slipped his arms around Nico,

"We can call in sick."

"No," Nico smiled and his hands came up to cradle Jason's face. His fingers were cold so Jason kissed them, "I like my work."

Jason smiled, "I'm glad."

"It was so stupid," Nico frowned, "the whole disagreement..."

"Is this the moment when you tell me why you turned me down all those times?" Jason asked. They were whispering even though there was nobody to hear them. The world was too absorbed in itself to worry about two boys who let go of all their fear and cautions, and were finally content, pressed together in a tiny bed in a shitty apartment. 

"I don't know," Nico sighed softly, "I guess I was just being an idiot. I...," he swallowed nervously as if trying to decide if he wanted to continue. Jason wanted to hear whatever was bothering Nico. He wanted Nico to trust him enough to properly open up to him. Jason kissed his forehead, trying to convey how much he cared for the other boy with such a small gesture, "In college," Nico continued quietly, tucking himself underneath Jason's chin so he didn't have to look at him, "there was this guy...I...I didn't really have many friends and...I don't know, I was an idiot back then as well I guess. I thought my life was finally turning around. The guys on the rugby team...they didn't like me, they thought I was weird...I suppose I was...I still am-"

"You're not weird," Jason interrupted, brushing his fingers through Nico's hair, "Or at least not weirder than everyone else on Argo Street," he smiled. Nico slipped his arms underneath Jason's arms and hugged into him more,

"Well they thought I was," Nico mumbled, his lips brushing against Jason's neck, "but he didn't. His name was Alex, and he was nice to me. I don't know why. He...he wasn't a good person. I guess he was just toying with me, leading me on...," Nico stopped for a second and Jason felt him shiver. The blonde felt sudden anger flare inside of him and he wanted to find this stupid Alex kid from years ago and beat him up. He couldn't understand how anyone could hurt Nico. The guy was a spring roll of shyness and adorableness, "I bumped into him one the morning. We were alone and...Christ, it was such a stupid thing to do...but I confessed to him. He was sweet about it," Jason's heart twisted, "he turned me down gently. But by lunchtime everyone knew."

Jason didn't know what to say. He tried to nudge Nico away from him so he could look at him, but the Italian just held onto him harder. Jason pressed a kiss to the top of his head, trying to stop his heart from hurting so damn much.

"It was really unpleasant. The guys...well, you know how the popular ones get," Nico's voice was quiet, "That's w-why...," he swallowed to stop his voice from shaking, "That's why I was so scared of telling you how I feel. I was scared you'd do something like that too, as stupid as that sounds, a-and...I guess I didn't think someone like you could ever like someone like me."

Jason forcefully pulled Nico away from him and then he flipped the surprised boy onto his back, hovering over him. His heart gave a twist when he saw Nico looking up at him with wide eyes filled with tears. The sight was so painful that Jason couldn't do anything else but press Nico into the pillows and kiss him, passionate and desperate, trying to reassure the boy somehow. He wrapped his arms around Nico, careful not to hurt him, determined to keep him safe from the world. Nico kissed him back with surprising fierceness, his cold hands coming up to press against Jason's cheeks.

The blonde pulled away to press kisses to Nico's face, his cheeks and forehead and jaw,

"You're so wonderful," he murmured into the boy's neck. Nico tried to turn away but Jason just pulled away and stared down at the other boy. His dark hair was like a halo on the pillows, the boy's cheeks flushed. Jason wanted to touch him, wanted to kiss every inch of him. He forced Nico to look at him. The boy still had tears in his eyes and his brows furrowed adorably, as if he was trying to make sense of the situation. Jason kissed the crease that the frown made, "You're beautiful," he whispered, "and I love you," Nico was still looking up at him like he didn't quite believe him, and that hurt. Jason kissed him, "I love you. So much, Nico," he whispered feverishly, "don't ever think I don't."

Nico smiled then, shyly, and wrapped his arms around his neck, to pull him in for another long, perfect kiss. Jason sensed Nico had more to tell him about his past, but he wasn't going to push it. He was just going to be there for Nico, and love him. Christ, Jason was going to love him so much.  

He was also glad that he brought Nico's stupid shoe back when he could've left it lying on the pavement. It was almost like a fairytale. 


	7. Act 2, Scene 1

**ACT 2 - LUKE and PERCY**

**"CHARITY"**

__

_a_ _pub. The light is dim, the corners shadowed in darkness. Several young people sit at the counter. One of them is a beautiful, exotic girl with a feather in her hair. She is drinking whiskey, with no chaser. Next to her sits a hyper-active, barely legal Latino boy, finishing his third shot of tequila, no lime, no salt. They both smell like coffee. The barman is a muscular, tall, scary-looking man who is dishing drinks out to the friends in front of him like it's a corner shop. But despite smiling at the jokes of the Latino tequila drinker, his eyes are on the corner of the bar, where a blonde, sickly-looking boy drinks alone. The peaceful, drowsy atmosphere is interrupted when a wild-looking dark haired boy comes barrelling in, screaming that the local hobo was chasing him again._

_That's Percy. He has an interesting story._

_ _

**PERCY**

Percy's Wednesday started off the way almost the same way as every other day - by being chased by the Lone Wolf, Luke, also known as Argo street's resident hobo. The man looked like your typical beggar; a beanie over his overgrown, greasy blonde hair, a scruffy beard covering the lower half of his face and half of the scar dominating one of his cheeks. No matter the weather, the Wolf was always dressed in the same burgundy suit, with a heavy black and white checker-ed coat over it. His blue eyes were always alight with excitement and joy, despite the fact that he was...well, quite literally no one. Everyone on Argo Street had a soft spot for him though, but Percy still didn't appreciate a random forty year old chasing him every time he tried to get to work.

Percy had moved to London from New York a year ago, when he had been nineteen. He left his lovely mother Sally back in Brooklyn, but like the good mamma's boy that he was, he called her at least twice a week. He always wanted to leave his home as a teen, mostly because of his step-father Smelly Gabe. But then his mother had divorced and met her current partner - Paul Blofis. When Percy saw his mother happy in the arms of someone who would take care of her, he wasted no time in fulfilling his dream of moving to Britain. And he wasn't disappointed - London was like a dream, especially in the winter. Nowhere near as big as New York, the old city had its own sort of magic that drew Percy in. 

Of course, Percy didn't want to be a post man. The job at Argo Street had just meant to be temporary until he found something better, but somehow Percy had ended up staying  there for an entire year. He didn't know what it was, but something about the Street was just...captivating. The little shops squashed together on the little U-shaped street looked like straight out of a fairy-tale, and the people working on it were some of the best friends Percy ever had. Of course there were a few downfalls, like Kelli and Drew from Under the Rainbow's flower shop, or the red waterproof jacket Percy was asked to wear even in the middle of summer, or the fact that he was forced to do cardio every morning or risk getting caught by the Lone Wolf.

That Wednesday was no different.

"Leave me alone!" Percy screeched, almost getting hit by a car as he dashed madly across the main street, ducking onto Argo like the devil was chasing him. He found no sanctuary there.

"Aw, I just wanna talk!" the Wolf complained, chasing after Percy. He didn't even seem out of breath, which the postman didn't understand. Shouldn't he be dying or something? Afterall he was an old man, and living on the streets did  _not_ explain how he magically got a condition like that. Percy glanced over his shoulder and screamed when he saw that the hobo was hot on his heels, grinning. He looked amused. Percy judged he wouldn't make it to Hermes post office, situated right on the bend between the flower shop and Half-Blood tattoo parlour. The idea of letting the Wolf catch him was terrifying, even though Percy knew that the man wouldn't really hurt him.

He saw his chance in God's Corner, the little cafe. Without thinking, Percy hurled himself at the door and spilled inside, startling the customers. The regulars didn't even bat an eyelash at the sudden disturbance though. Seeing Percy run for his life along Argo was a daily occurrence that most of them were used to. 

"Morning, Usain Bolt," Leo Valdez grinned at Percy from behind the counter. The top part of his messy curls was pulled back into a little man bun, but some curls still escaped, falling into the boy's amused chocolate eyes. He was a legal adult, but he still looked about fifteen, especially when he was grinning like that, "To what do we owe this wonderful visit?" 

"Don't start, Leo," Percy collapsed into a chair and tried catching his breath. He saw the Lone Wolf stop outside the glass door. For a second the man looked at Percy, and sadness flashed in his eyes. It startled Percy, and made his heart pound faster than it had before, but when he blinked the Wolf just grinned, waved, and bounded off. No matter what, he never went into any of the shops on Argo street, and never begged for money. He was without a doubt the weirdest hobo Percy had ever seen. 

"Hey, he just wants to have a chat," Leo said innocently, starting to brew a coffee, "and maybe touch your ass. Who knows."

Percy groaned. That's when Piper, the other worker at the cafe, appeared from the backroom, her hair in two messy braids.

"Oh leave him alone!" she hit Leo upside the head playfully. She shook her head at Percy, "Really Perce, maybe we should call the police."

"We can't!" Leo protested, waving his arms around like a spastic child, "He's our street mascot!"

Percy shook his head, "It's alright," he said, "It's not like he's hurting me or anything. I think he's just lonely."

"Does he even have a house?" Leo mused, leaning on the counter again. Piper brought two hot chocolates out, with cream and caramel, and put one in front of the old lady in the corner, and the other one in front of Percy. He smiled at her gratefully.

"No, Leo," Piper sighed, "That's the whole point of being hopeless!"

Hearing the two bicker was another part of Percy's morning. The boy watched them, amused, letting his heart beat slow down as he sipped on the warm drink. The cafe was full of life, even at seven in the morning. The happy yellow walls gave an illusion of a warm day, and the wooden counter just added to the cosiness of the place. Random potted plats hung from the ceilings above the little round cedar-wood tables, and hand written menus stood out from blackboards situated around the small room. It was Percy's third home, right after his flat and the post office.

"I'm sorry," Chiron - the middle aged manager of God's corner - rolled in through the door on his wheelchair, a bag of groceries in his lap. Piper and Leo immediately stopped their little argument, to the disappointment of the engaged clients of the shop, "I didn't realise this was the breakfast club."

"Sorry boss," Leo said sheepishly as Piper hurried back behind the counter.

"Good morning, Percy," Chiron said with a warm smile as he wheeled himself behind the counter too. He was usually in the kitchen making the delicious pastries and cupcakes sold in the cafe, 

"Morning, Mr Chiron," Percy drained the last of his hot chocolate and stood up, "Thanks for the drink. I'll see you guys later."

Piper waved and Percy walked to the door uncertainly. He was scared the Wolf would pop out at him like some kind of scare-jump in a horror film.

"He's gone dear," an old lady by the window said kindly. Percy exhaled in relief,

"Thank you, ma'am," he gave her his most charming smile and then slipped outside into the cold morning. Sure enough, Argo Street was empty apart from the smokers from Olympus coming out for their usual break. Still, Percy felt antsy and freaked out so after just a few steps he was running again, his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if this was the Wolf's point - to get Percy paranoid. The boy didn't  _actually_ mind the guy, he was nice to talk to sometimes, the postman just didn't appreciate the whole cat and mouse thing. 

He was glad when he made it to the end of the street un-harassed. 

When Percy slipped into Hermes', it was a mess as usual. Stacks of papers littered the desks around the room. Several people were on the phone, confirming orders and scribbling things down on pieces of paper with pencils tucked into their hair or behind their ears. Each of them was dressed in the same red raincoat that Percy wore, and each had a messenger bag close by, ready to dash out at a moments notice. The chaos was unreal, but it was a familiar chaos. The clock on the wall showed eleven thirty two, which was incorrect. A load of boxes to be mailed were stacked in a dangerous looking pyramid in the corner,

"PERCY JACKSON!" Gleeson Hedge, commonly referred to as Coach Hedge, waddled out of his office, looking furious. He was a short man with curls that sometimes made him look like he had goat-horns. He usually wore a cap to hide that, as well as a whistle around his neck as if he was a real coach at school and not the head of the post office. Percy smiled sheepishly as the man waddled over to him, "Where the hell have you been?! Do you know you have a delivery?! Huh?! Do you?!" he jabbed Percy in the chest and the boy fought the smile about to appear on his face.

"Sorry, coach," Percy said, and his voice was drowned by the general ruckus of the post office. A radio was playing somewhere in the back, and Conor Stoll was shouting over the phone about a wrongly addressed package. His twin brother, Travis, was swinging in his chair and licking closed envelopes like he was a glue machine. Calypso, a pretty girl with a bad temper, was shoving letters into her messenger bag, clearly about to go out.

Coach Hedge angrily pointed to a stack of letters, "Do your job, Jackson, you retarded grape!" he demanded. His anger didn't really affect anyone in the office anymore, it was just the way Coach was. Percy said his hello's to the other postmen and then started packing away his delivery. As Percy finished putting the final letter into his bag, the last worker of the office entered. Hazel Levesque was grinning like it was Christmas morning, her golden curly hair pulled back into a ponytail,

"I'm ready for those pizza leaflets, Coach!" she said, and waved at Percy.

"That's the spirit!" Coach said happily, glad that  _someone_ was doing their job. Percy rolled his eyes fondly, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, adjusted his red rain-jacket, and jumped back out into the crisp morning. He inhaled happily and saw Calypso just disappearing around the corner at the top of the street. The boy freely walked down Argo, whistling. He felt happy and content. He loved mornings like that, when chaotic met peaceful. It gave him a moment to think. 

"Yo, Percy," Beckendorf was smoking outside the Tattoo Parlour, "Any letters for us?"

"Nope," Percy said, popping the 'p.' 

"Smoking kills!" Will yelled from the inside of the shop. Percy snickered and continued down the street. He almost cleared it, almost made it out among the rushing cars and the tourists, where Argo Street's fairy-tale met reality. He was almost safe, and then the Wolf stumbled out of a side alley. He grinned like a predator when his eyes landed on Percy and the boy was surprised at how white and straight his teeth were,

"Percy!" Luke bellowed happily, as if they were best mates. Percy squeaked and then he was sprinting away. 

Yup, just a normal morning for a post man on Argo Street. 

**LUKE**

He ran off again. Well, Luke let him run off. The man used to be in the army, that's where he got his scar, and if he wanted to he could have easily caught Percy Jackson. But that wasn't the point. The point was to change the monotony of his life, to find something interesting to do. And nothing excited Luke more than chasing Percy through the streets. It was just amusing, like a game. And it helped Luke focus on something other than his constant hunger, and the state he was in. Christ he couldn't remember when he had changed from a scarred battle hero to a half-crazed street rat. 

The man watched sadly as Percy disappeared around the corner. He knew he stank, he knew he looked bad, but damn, he just wanted someone to talk to. Not just _someone,_ he wanted Percy specifically. The boy was just so...happy. When Luke was around him he felt intoxicated on that happiness, if just for a little bit. He wondered if that was what being on drugs was like. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to sink lower than he already was.

The man sighed, tired of feeling sorry for himself, and dragged himself off the way he came. The few people he saw on the street quickly moved away from him as if he carried the black death. That stopped hurting a long ago, the sly, disgusted looks they gave him. But when a woman offered him some change, Luke felt himself burning red with humiliation. He was  _not_ a beggar. He just didn't have a place to live, or clothes to wear, or food to eat. He didn't need anybody's pity. 

When Luke slipped into the familiar alleyway adjacent to Argo Street, away from the eye of the public, he immediately felt better. He sat down in his usual doorway. It once led to a Chinese restaurant that was now closed. The door hadn't been opened in years but the little roof over it helped to shield Luke from the elements. Not that it mattered much; Luke barely felt the cold or the heat. He walked around all year in the same coat because his body had long ago stopped feeling things like discomfort. The only thing he  _did_ feel was when it got cold at night. And the pain in his chest. He never got used to the two. 

The man punched the wall next to his head angrily, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. Fuck he hated this. He hated being so hopeless and useless. He used to be a  _soldier,_ he used to be  _strong._ And he had been reduced to this. As soon as Luke sat down, he wanted to go out again. He wanted to stop someone and just  _talk_ to them, that's all he wanted. He hadn't had a nice conversation in a while, and haven't felt physical contact in what felt like years. Just a handshake would make his day, but everyone was disgusted by him and no matter how much they smiled at him, they still wouldn't touch him. Luke didn't blame them, he wouldn't want to touch himself either.

In the end he decided to stay where he was, and take a nap. It was getting harder and harder to sleep at night since it got so cold, and besides, Luke didn't want to bother anyone else that day. He already knew he was annoying Percy but it was just that...well, he liked the boy. Percy always talked to him, or at least used to before Luke started chasing after him like an idiot. Percy was the only one who didn't smile at him with pity or try to offer him money or clothes. Luke wasn't a fucking pity party. He wasn't the Lone Wolf or a hobo, he was just _Luke_ , and he didn't have a home, and that was okay. 


	8. Act 2, Scene 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave kudos and comments <3

** **

**LUKE**

He finally gave in into his hunger. The panini was only  _half_ eaten anyway, and it looked fresh...kind of. Not really. When Luke woke up from his nightmare riddled sleep, filled with gunshots and blood-red sand, his stomach felt like it was eating itself. Which essentially it was. His neck was stiff from the position he had been in but Luke was more concerned with the fact that he hadn't eaten anything for more than twenty four hours. It was getting dark and he felt sick. He tried to stand but instead collapsed onto his hands and knees, scraping them, and gagged. There was nothing for him to puke up so the man groaned and stumbled through the side streets, desperate for nobody to see him in this state. 

The panini was lying on the street. On the fucking  _street._ It was some rich man's uneaten lunch probably, and Luke had to decide between pride and quenching that horrible hunger in his stomach. In the end the latter won, but only because the street was dark and deserted and nobody was looking at him. The man snatched his first meal in days like a scared orphan from Oliver Twist, and greedily shoved the stale bread into his mouth. He ate so fast he almost chocked. It tasted disgusting and had dust and other shit among the grey lettuce, but Luke was so  _hungry._

Once again he tried to remember how he ended up all alone on the London streets. He had grown up as an only child in a house in Manchester. He dimly remembered his childhood, and the pretty little house he lived in. He used to play football. It was nice, and peaceful, unlike this. But then the devil possessed him, and at the age of twenty Luke abandoned his education and joined the army. Afghanistan was hell. Luke couldn't think about it without the scar on his cheek throbbing painfully, even though it had been years since he was a soldier. After two years of service, and his injury, he returned to England only to be diagnosed with PTSD. His parents were dead and his girlfriend left him after she couldn't stand Luke thrashing in bed at night, trying to fend off enemies he killed long ago. The man found that he was alone. 

Alcohol helped, Luke found out. But too much of it and he couldn't move from his bed, crying like a baby and regretting every time he held a gun in his hands. The bills piled up, the landlord hammered on the door. It was a hazy time of his life. Luke moved only to eat, just enough to stay alive, and drink. He wasted away. The police didn't care that he was a war veteran when they came to 'ask him to leave the apartment.' So Luke did what they said, because like an idiot he still thought he was a soldier, and had to follow orders. He had nobody left, all his friends turned away from him when he became a shell of what he used to be.

All that was years ago, and Luke still didn't pick himself up from that blow, and he was still on the streets.

The panini came back up a few hours later. It was close to midnight and Luke had been sitting in his doorway, watching the sliver of the sky between the two buildings who were the closest thing to a shelter he had. He would have said he was watching the stars but he couldn't see any. Not in London. Then, without a warning, his stomach started rioting. Nausea hit Luke and that's when he realised the panini probably wasn't as fresh as he assumed. The boy forced himself to his feet with a groan because he couldn't stand to throw up in his alleyway and stink the place up. He blindly stumbled out of it, clutching his stomach and trying to not puke all over his worn out shoes. His world spun and as soon as he was clear of his alleyway he threw up onto the pavement with a disgusting sound, the remains of the panini mixed with yellow stuff that Luke didn't want to think about. It probably meant he was dehydrated. 

"Christ Luke," a voice hissed, startling Luke out of his misery, "what the fuck did you drink?!"

Luke straightened up and tried to focus his gaze. In front of him stood two of the guys from Argo Street. Jason Grace had his hands in his pockets, disgust carefully masked under concern. Nico di Angelo just looked at him with wide eyes, almost like he was scared. Lately Luke had noticed the two walking closer together, and it was common knowledge that Jason was trying to gather courage to ask the other boy out. Luke tried to concentrate on that, and not on the pain in his stomach. He pulled on his often used fake smile.

"More like what I ate. It sure as hell wasn't fresh!" the man grinned, trying to make light of the situation even though he was flushing with shame. He didn't want them to see him like that. One part of him was desperate to have a conversation, to hang out with the two, to have someone  _care._ The other part of him wanted to divert the attention from him desperately. He didn't want the two to pity him. He wasn't a pity party, he just ate a gone-off panini. Accidents happen. "How's the whole confessing thing going?" Luke asked, smiling as if he didn't feel like a stampede of animals just had a rave in his small intestine. His insides clenched but there was nothing else for him to puke up. 

"I haven't been to church," Nico said, trying to seem casual. Luke could see right through him - he was nervous, trying to pretend like he didn't understand what Luke was suggesting.  _Could it be that the little angel likes Jason back?_ Luke wondered, and his smile broadened. Now that was some news to liven up his day, "So I don't know what you mean by 'confessing.'"

"Don't you now?" Luke asked, and looked at Jason. The man looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide, and Luke knew he hit the nail on the head. The two were in love, it was so painfully obvious that Luke wondered how they hadn't noticed it yet. Oblivious idiots. It hurt. Nobody had loved Luke for so long he forgot what if felt like to be wanted or cared about. He suddenly felt the need to scream at the two to just run off into the sunset and live happily ever after, because he couldn't. Christ, he hated when people were coy. They should just confess already. 

"Luke, it's late. We're gonna go," Jason said, as if sensing that Luke was about to say something. The blonde grabbed Nico's wrist. Familiar disappointment settled on Luke's shoulders. Of course they didn't want to talk to him. Nobody wanted to talk to him. If Luke wasn't used to it he might've cried. Instead he just pouted to hide his worn sadness,

"Aw, you won't talk to me?" he teased, hoping his voice didn't shake. Jason glowered at him and then shoved past, pulling Nico along. Luke grinned, watching them go, and when they disappeared around the corner his smile fell. He dropped into a crouch and heaved again, hoping that maybe there was something left inside of him to vomit, so he could feel better. No such luck. The man dragged himself back into his alleyway, his body still revolting against him. He collapsed onto his doorway, shivering violently, praying that he didn't have food poisoning. 

Not that anybody cared. In all honesty, Luke himself didn't care. He just wanted it to stop hurting.

**PERCY**

The boy yawned, stretching his arms over his head. He had a bad night's sleep, full of weird dreams. He remembered that in one of them he was in a dress and his stupid red raincoat and he was being chased by a massive wolf through the forest. He woke up in cold sweat and couldn't fall asleep again until the early afternoon. He was glad for the afternoon shift but he was still  shuffling through the street, on his way, like a zombie, passing everyone going to lunch. He just hoped Coach would put him on telephone duty so he could catch naps in-between making calls. He didn't think he could make any deliveries in this state.

"Percy!" the shout was all too familiar, and stabbed at Percy's tired mind like knives. The boy moaned tiredly under his breath and sluggishly turned around. The Lone Wolf was grinning like a predator as he dashed across the road, making it towards Percy at an alarming speed. The boy had half a mind to just let the hobo catch him, but then his instincts kicked in. His heart started pounding as his legs moved by themselves. Before he even knew what he was doing, Percy was running through the main street, shoving past people, and cussing Luke under his breath. He heard breathless laughter and footsteps behind him so he just run faster, his lungs aching. He had trouble catching his breath. 

When Percy rounded the corner of Argo Street he practically flew right into Nico and Jason. The boy stopped just in time, flushed and panting for breath.

"Hey Perce," Percy's could see amusement sparking in the man's eyes. Fuck, why did everyone think that the Wolf's infatuation with him was so funny?!

"Oh my God," Percy gasped, because he didn't know what else to say. He could see Luke sprinting towards him, a predator about to close its jaws on its prey, "Save me! The Lone Wolf's after me!" the postman squeaked even though it was pretty obvious exactly who was chasing him. 

"Don't you want to talk about the meaning of life?!" Luke yelled happily. Percy squeaked, heart pounding. He knew he would get no help from Jason or Nico, so he ducked underneath Nico's arm, and ran towards the post office for his life. He almost made it as well, but then the Lone Wolf got a sudden burst of speed and suddenly he was rounding up so he ended up right in front of Percy. The boy slammed into him and then stumbled back, rubbing the nose that he connected with Luke's chest, while the Wolf laughed throatily. 

"What the  _hell_?!" Percy demanded angrily. He ignored his pounding heart and the adrenaline pulsing around his body and tried to go around the man. Luke, like an annoying schoolkid, moved so no matter where Percy went, he'd be in his way, "I have a job! Let me pass!" Percy demanded, flushing. He felt like a helpless child and suddenly he wanted to stamp his foot and throw a tantrum. The hobo was just so  _annoying._ Percy glared at him and Luke just grinned his perfect little grin at him. Then, without warning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled red rose, and held it out to Percy, almost like a peace offering. The situation changed so fast that the postman could just blink owlishly, "Huh?" he muttered intelligently.

"For you," Luke's smile softened, so he didn't look like a predator anymore. Percy looked from the rose to him and with a start noticed how blue his eyes were in the early winter sun. His heart skipped a beat and then started pounding faster.  _Don't get all flattered by a street rat!_ Percy scolded himself,

"Did you steal that?" he demanded. Luke frowned,

"I don't steal," he informed Percy in a hollow tone. Feeling bad for such a suggestion, Percy too the rose tentatively. It smelled nice, "I actually bought it."

"From the Rainbow?" Percy asked, glancing at the florist's to the side. He could see Kelli lounging on the chair while Nico dealt with a customer.

"No. From the lady who sells the flowers two streets down. She needs the money," Luke shrugged, and put his gloved hands into his pockets, "It was just a pound."

To Percy a pound was nothing, but Luke was  _homeless_ and  _hungry_ and he chose to go and give the pound to a poor woman and buy a little crumpled rose from her. And now he was giving it to Percy. Suddenly Percy wanted to cry. He forgot how kind people could be sometimes,

"Thank you," he said quietly, "that's sweet."

Luke smiled, "See you around, Percy," he said and then bounded off as if he had somewhere to be. Percy watched him go, and his heart wouldn't stop beating painfully hard in his chest. 


	9. Act 2, Scene 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I finally read the Blood of Olympus! Which changed my opinions on some characters, and I'm in a bit of a hole right now coz i'm upset it's over. But we always have fanfiction.  
> And Trials of Apollo.  
> Goddamn I need to get my hands on Trials of Apollo.  
> Anyway, enjoy the read!

** **

**PERCY**

Percy was excited as he _finally_ left the post office. He was the last in, so by coaches rules he was also the last out. Friday was drinks night and after what seemed like ages, all of Percy's friends finally had time to meet up all together. The boy bounded through the street as soon as he locked up, grinning. The other shops were drowned in darkness, the neon sign from the tattoo parlour blinking at him happily. Percy could hear noise and see light spilling from Olympus on the corner, and he was about to hurry his step up to join with his group as fast as he could, when he suddenly slowed down. It was dark. Leaves rustled across the wet street. By all means Percy should've been creeped out, especially since he knew he was being chased, and yet...

His hand went into his pocket on its own accord and Percy touched the rose he shoved in there. The petals were soft. Percy's heart beat stuttered.  _What are you doing?! Are you an idiot!_ He screamed at himself in his head, but his body and his heart wouldn't listen as he suddenly stopped walking all together. He peered at the small alleyway between God's Corner and Under the Rainbow. It was just a shadowy entrance, like a monster's mouth.

"Luke?" Percy asked quietly. Silence. The boy cleared his throat, "Luke!" he called louder and then flushed with embarrassment. He had no idea what he was doing but suddenly he wanted to talk to the guy. It was stupid. Almost as if Percy was attracted to him... _Ew no! He's old and stinks and..._ the words died away in Percy's mind because he remembered the Wolf's eyes sparkling at him, so blue and full of hope. Percy shivered and then quickly strode towards Olympus, away from the alleyway and whatever was hiding there. Luke wasn't out tonight, and Percy shouldn't be bothered by his absence. And yet he was.

A bubble of warmth enveloped the boy as soon as he entered the pub as well as a cloud of smoke, which helped disperse his dark, muddled thoughts. The place was packed, almost like every Friday. Some burly Irish men were laughing loudly in one corner while English fans watched the rugby game intently. A couple of older and younger guys were playing pool, surrounded by a loose ring of girls drinking beer. Even in the cosy chaos, it was easy for Percy to spot his friends, and he pushed his confused feelings to the side as he strode towards them, 

"Hey you lot," he said as he plopped down next to Leo. The Latino smelled strongly of motor oil and coffee, "What's going on?"

"We're waiting for Mike to get off so we can discuss the partaaaay," Leo sang off key. Percy winced and leaned away from the boy and his bad vocals. Opposite him, Jason kept glancing at Nico. Percy looked at the two, trying to figure out if they finally confessed to each other. Deducing from the fact they weren't snogging each other's faces off, he assumed they didn't. Michael came to their table, a notepad in his hand. He had a one day stubble on his cheeks and looked tired, but he still smiled, 

"Nico, Percy," he said as a form of welcome, "Drinks?"

"I'll have vodka with lemonade," Percy said before he could tell himself it was a bad idea. Vodka was good. Vodka would make it easier to sort out the weird thoughts in his head, "The blue one, yeah?"

Mike rolled his eyes, "Sure man. Nico?" he asked. He wasn't noting anything down - he knew all of their orders off by heart. 

"Coke," Nico stared down at the table. He was tense and nervous and Percy had half the mind to tell Jason to kiss him to get him to loosen up. Of course he didn't do that - he wasn't about to intervene in whatever the fuck the two had going on. He had enough problems himself. Percy spaced out for a second, not even thinking about anything specific, and was startled back into the conversation when Leo started talking, looking directly at him, 

"So this old lady over the internet needs care, so I was like okay. And she's rich. Like Kardashian rich. Crystal lamps and all the shebang," he was gesturing wildly with his hands, "She's kinda scary but not like The Visit scary so I'm not bothered. But her _son_ -"

Percy's mind finally caught up to the conversation. He was pretty sure that Jason had mentioned it to him in passing, that Leo had gotten himself a 'carer.' 

"I'm sorry I still can't comprehend the fact where you told us you got a sugar mommy," Percy shook his head. He wasn't _really_ surprised. If anyone in the group was going to do something inappropriate nine times out of ten it was Leo. The other one was Percy when he was drunk. Speaking of being drunk - Mike came with their drinks but didn't even have time to say anything because someone from across the room was shouting at him. Percy only then noticed Silena and Beckendorf, smooching in the corner, but decided not to bother them. They seemed to be too absorbed in each other to pay attention to anyone else anyway. 

"Keep up, fishy," Leo said and only then Percy realised he had spaced out again, "Anyway she wants me to move into her mansion-"

"This ass-hole wants to leave me," Piper complained from Leo's other side, "Can you believe it?"

"Look Pipes," Leo sighed dramatically, "we just aren't working out. It's not you - it's me." Percy heard the smack more than saw it. 

"Speaking of sugar mommies," Will said suddenly as he sloshed his drink in his glass. He was perched on a stool he dragged over from one of the other tables, "Do you know who needs one?"

"Luke the hobo?" Leo asked innocently, loudly sipping his drink. A sudden flare of anger went through Percy, quickly followed by confusion and frustration. A week ago he himself would have laughed at that joke, but somehow now it didn't seem funny, "Maybe he'd have enough money to finally take a shower." Jason snorted.

"Hey," Percy protested, feeling blood rush to his face, "He doesn't smell that bad! He's alright actually...," he trailed off as Luke's amused blue eyes flashed in his mind. When he looked up, everyone was staring at him in confusion. Percy felt really uncomfortable with so much attention on him, and he kind of wished he kept his mouth shut. 

"Percy are you feeling okay?" Piper spluttered eventually, leaning forward so she could look around Leo and at Percy. The postman's ears felt hot, "Did the Wolf finally catch you and brainwash you?"

"Forget it," Percy grumbled, hands tightening against his glass, "You guys don't get it." And they didn't. Percy wasn't sure if he got it himself. In the morning everything has seemed so simpler. Luke had been just a hobo then, chasing Percy around like some madman.  _What changed?_ Percy knew the answer to that. When Luke gave him the rose and hope flickered in his eyes Percy had realised he was something more than just a homeless dude. He was human. He had a story. And he was probably lonely. Percy couldn't imagine a life like that, all alone, never having anyone to talk to...he began to understand why Luke was always bothering everyone. He just wanted someone to speak to. Percy suddenly felt like shit for running away from the Wolf all the time. There was an awkward silence but he missed it, completely lost in his own thoughts.

"We're back," Silena said as her and Beckendorf walked over.

"Thanks for  _finally_ joining us," Will said with a wink. The two were both flushed, their hands clasped together tightly, 

"Sorry, we were, erm...," Beckendorf cleared his throat, "Pre-occupied."

"We  _saw_ ," Leo muttered in disgust. Silena giggled and kissed her boyfriend's cheek. Percy smiled and turned to Jason to ask him about if he'd help him put together an IKEA cabinet, but Jason was already busy with something else; staring at Nico. The blonde was clearly lost in his thoughts like Percy had been minutes ago, but his gaze was fixed on Nico. The Italian noticed too and a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. Percy smirked into his drink. Those two were either blind, or stupid, or both. 

***

Percy was out of his mind, but he was okay with that. Instead of doing what he was  _meant_ to be, which was doing rounds and shoving pamphlets about spiritual cleansing into people's post boxes, he was standing at the mouth of the alley that was commonly known as 'Luke's.' Well, at least that's what the old woman Percy stopped on the street said. She was the only that was selling roses. Percy had gone home and put his own flower into a jug of water, and it was holding up surprisingly well. 

Percy peered inside the alley nervously. It looked pretty standard, ending in a brick wall; a big, black bin stood against one wall, a stack of cardboard boxes against the other. It didn't smell  _too_ bad, a little like gone off food and rats but nothing too intense. And it was covered in shadows. Percy wanted to call out to Luke but he supposed that would be weird, so instead he tried to spot him in the darkness.

"Boo," the breath brushed against the nape of Percy's neck. The boy's pulse escalated and he whirled around, heart hammering, only to see the Lone Wolf standing behind him, grinning. Then Percy's heart was pounding for a completely different reason. He couldn't help but look past Luke's dirty clothing and his shaggy beard and greasy hair. He wondered what he  _actually_ looked like. How old he was. What his surname was.  _Who_ he was. Luke's scar wrinkled when he smiled, "Coming into the lion's den, eh?"

"I-I...um...," Percy stuttered. Luke went around him and into the alleyway so the boy followed him nervously. It kind of felt like going into someone's home, "I wanted to...um, say thanks...you know, for the rose?"

"You already said thanks as I recall. Thanks and...," Luke pulled a face that made him look a bit like a giggly teenage girl, "That's so sweet!" he squealed. Percy flushed,

"Hey! I don't sound like that!" he objected.

"Sure you don't," Luke winked at him. He re-arranged the cardboard boxes, "So what can I help you with, Percy?"

Percy shivered. He kind of liked the way Luke said his name, all low and raspy.  _What the fuck!? What the fuck?! What the fuck?!_ Percy's mind screamed at him, but his heart continued to pound,

"I brought you this," he held clumsily dove into the messenger bag and hastily pulled out a book. It was a tattered copy of  _We were Liars._ Luke's expression darkened suddenly, 

"What is that?" he growled, "I'm not some charity."

Percy frowned, "I didn't...it's a thankyou. For the rose," he flushed. He held out the book to Luke and his hand trembled, "I thought I'd give you something in return."

"I don't need you to  _give_ me anything," Luke hissed, and Percy felt he struck a nerve, "I don't need your sympathy or your pity."

"I don't pity you," Percy protested, dropping the hand with the book awkwardly, "I just-"

"You just what?!" Luke demanded, 

"I just wanted to be friendly," Percy mumbled, feeling like a child getting scolded by a teacher. Luke's glare made his heart twist painfully,

"Oh sure you did," Luke laughed without any humour, "Look at poor old Luke, walking around the streets like a beggar - well I'm not!" 

The defensiveness in Luke's tone startled Percy, "I thought you were lonely," he said, feeling angry himself all of a sudden. _Why did I come here?_ "You're always looking for people to talk to, well I decided that I wouldn't mind talking to you. Or whatever else you need," Percy stomach tightened, "You're obviously on the street for a reason, you have nowhere to go. I just wanted to be here for you."

He said something wrong. Hurt and misery flashed through Luke's eyes and then they were furious again, a storm brewing behind his irises,

"Get. Out." Luke gritted, his hands clenching into fists. Percy shoved the book back into his bag, feeling his cheeks burn and his eyes sting. He turned on his heel and practically ran from the alleyway. He couldn't take it. He couldn't bare the way Luke looked at him. He didn't ever remember feeling this bad. Percy had just offered a little bit of kindness to someone and it was thrown back in his face. Not that he could blame Luke. He shouldn't have mentioned the being alone part, that obviously hit too close to home. Still, Percy just wanted...he just wanted...the boy took a shaky breath and stopped. He needed to get himself together.

Percy pulled out the leaflets he was meant to give out from his bag. A strong gust of wind came out of nowhere and they spilled from his hands, swirling through the air. Percy watched them, miserable.


	10. Act 2, Scene 4

** **

**LUKE**

Sundays were always a nostalgic day for Luke, and they could go two ways. Either he'd sit under the little bridge in the nearby park and look as the river sluggishly flowed past, or he'd end up in his alleyway. If he went to the park it would be to enjoy the sun on his face and feel the breeze ruffle through the strands of his greasy hair. He'd feel the grass underneath his finger and reminisce about the Sundays in the army, when he and his comrades would stand shoulder to shoulder, his brothers in green, and watch a priest conduct the sermon. No matter the heat and the sand and the gunshots in the distance, mass always took place. Luke wasn't particularly religious, but in the midst of all the chaos it was a moment when he could feel at least a little bit of peace, surrounded by people who became his family. Even though in his memories their faces were blurry and unclear, Luke still remembered their names, their stories. Division eleven. His comrades, his brothers.

Some Sundays Luke wouldn't have the strength to move from his alley. The bells would toll in the church down the street, calling people to the service and Luke would be like a broken doll against his doorway, remembering his friends who were long gone. Chris Rodriguez, the calm and patient guy who's PTSD was worse than Luke's and led to his suicide. Luke went to his funeral, back when he was still with his girl. Cecil Markowitz, the biggest klutz and troublemaker Luke knew, always lifting everyone's spirits until his clumsiness made him walk into a mine field. Ethan Nakamura, Luke's moody best friend who lost his eye to shrapnel from a bomb, and later lost his life to the same thing. Luke was the only person out of Division eleven who made it, but he remembered every man who didn't. 

Today was one of those Sundays when Luke was paralysed with his own misery and pain. But for once he wasn't thinking about the dead he left in Afghanistan, but about Percy fucking Jackson. Luke hadn't seen the boy ever since he tried to give him that stupid book. Luke knew he over-reacted, knew he was being an asshole. But he couldn't help it. When Percy offered him the book Luke felt like any other poor man on the streets. He didn't want 'gifts' or help, and he thought Percy understood that. He wanted to talk with him, to get to know him better, that was it...of course, Luke wasn't stupid enough to believe there could be anything between them. He was homeless, not blind. He knew what he looked like, what he  _was_ like. And yet part of him still hoped that Percy could offer him his friendship and maybe more, not pity.

It didn't matter - he fucked it all up and pushed Percy away just like he had everyone else since the war. The sounds of the church close by mixed with the sounds of bullets in Luke's head and the man furiously rubbed the temples to try and get the sound and Percy out of his head. His scar throbbed painfully and his fingers slid to touch it. His beard had crept up his cheeks and covered the lower part of it. Christ, Luke wished he could shave. 

It was late when he finally dragged himself into the street. Well, not late, just dark. It got dark early now and that reminded him that Christmas was close, which made him even grumpier. He would have preferred to stay in his little hole and be miserable, but his stomach was churning again and Luke knew he needed to eat. Some days he wondered if there was even a point. Nobody would miss him if he was gone...but dying from starvation was not Luke's ideal way to leave the world so he went out to find some dinner. Preferably something different than a mouldy panini. 

He walked the streets like a ghost, from shadow to shadows, desperate for nobody to see him. Not that there was anybody on Argo Street, most of the shops were already closed. Luke trudged along, undisturbed, the distant sound of traffic humming in his ears. That's when he heard it - the muffled shouting. It came from one of the side alleyways that opened up into a maze of side streets. As Luke walked past he heard shuffling and yells inside. A fight. He didn't want to get involved, the gangs around here were a bad bunch. Luke hurried on, his heart skipping a beat, and then he heard it.

"Fuck  _off_ ," the voice was unmistakable.  _Percy._ Luke's heart pounded and he didn't even have time to prooperly think about what the fuck was happening because his body was moving on its own accord. His feet moved and he plunged into the dark alleyway without a second thought. A lantern shone overhead and in the glow Luke saw two big, burly men in hoods, and Percy. He looked helplessly skinny and small compared to the two giants, dressed in his stupid little red jacket. It didn't help that one of the bigger men had Percy up against the brick wall, a knife at his throat.

"Where's your fucking money, bruv," one of the giants snarled, while his friend pressed the blade harder against Percy's neck. Fear flashed in the boy's eyes and Luke saw red. He strode forward, barely aware of his actions. He let his heart and emotions take over, switched his brain off. Just like during the war.

"Oi!" one of the men noticed Luke but it was too late. The man's training from years ago kicked in and in one swift motion he had the wrist of the giant holding the knife in his hand. With a forceful tug, Luke broke his arm. The man howled and dropped the knife and Percy used the moment of freedom to kick his legs from underneath him. The giant went sprawling onto the wet ground of the alleyway, still screaming, his arm bent at a grotesque angle. The other man reached into his pocket but Luke was faster. He grabbed the man's arm and twisted it behind his back. The man struggled and cursed but Percy came up and threw a well aimed punch. Luke heard the distinctive  _crunch_ of the guy's nose breaking and he grinned.

"I'm calling the police," Percy growled, his eyes bright with fury, his knuckles sprayed with the blood from the giant's nose. Luke had never seen anything half so beautiful,

"I wouldn't move if I was you," Luke hissed, pressing the man into the wall, "Or your arm will go snap like your friends over there," Luke nudged his chin at the gangster writhing on the ground, crying. Percy was talking quickly on the phone. When he was done he looked up at Luke and then they just stared at each other. Luke forgot all about that stupid book incident, he was just so fucking happy that Percy was okay. He didn't remember when he had started to care so much. He wanted to run up and wrap his arms around the boy...but he didn't think Percy would appreciate that. 

A police car stopped at the mouth of the alley, screaming like a siren, and officers spilled out. That's when Luke let go of the gangster. The man collapsed to the ground on shaky knees,

"Come on!" Luke yelled at Percy. The boy looked at him, bewildered, but Luke was already sprinting towards the other end of the alley, which branched of in-between the houses. Seconds later he heard Percy racing after him, and the police's shouts echoing off of the walls. Luke wasn't about to got to the station and answer their stupid questions. He didn't want the help of the police - they never helped him before. Instead the man dashed between fire escape stairs and rubbish bins outside restaurants, Percy hot on his heels. Luke knew these streets like the back of his hand and in minutes the two were stumbling outside onto the main road, but Luke didn't slow down until they were in the familiar darkness of Argo Street. Then his stomach tightened and his step slowed. The pub was still open, lights coming from its windows, and Luke knew Percy's friend worked there. Naturally the shaken up boy would probably go in to talk to him about what just happened. And Luke would be alone.

"D-Don't...," Luke cleared his throat so his voice didn't sound so hoarse, "Don't get into anymore trouble, kid." He didn't turn around, didn't dare to see the expression on Percy's face.

"Luke...," the boy started.

"It's alright. We're alright," Luke said, hands clenching into fists, "I'll see you around."

He made a step towards his alley, just wanting to go to sleep as the adrenaline drained from his body, but then he felt warm arms wrap around his torso, and a body press against his back. Luke's voice die in his throat as his eyes widened. The neon sign on the tattoo parlour flickered softly and Percy's arms tightened around Luke, as if he was scared to let him go. The boy was shaking, his face pressed against Luke's back. Luke wanted to push him away because he knew that he was dirty and he stank and...his objections disappeared. Human contact just felt so  _good_ , and Percy was so wonderfully warm against his back. Luke's heart pounded violently against his chest,

"Thank you," Percy whispered shakily, still clinging onto Luke. The man felt something prick at his eyes and with a start he realised that it was tears. He blinked them away hurriedly and then gently slipped out of Percy's grip. He turned around and smiled at the boy, who was blushing, his eyes big and dark in his face. He looked pretty shaken. Luke reached out and ruffled his hair,

"Anytime."

**PERCY**

Luke didn't let him bring him clothes or books, or even food. And Percy didn't want to push, because he knew what it felt like to feel weak and helpless and he was just glad that Luke allowed him to just hang out in 'his' alleyway. They talked every day for almost two weeks. Every time Percy went out to do his job he'd stop and have a conversation with the Wolf. He'd come by after work, to make sure Luke was alright. They went together surprisingly well, like peanut butter and jelly, and slowly Luke opened up to Percy. 

"A bomb," Luke tapped his cheek one of the evenings, when he and Percy were sitting opposite each other in his alleyway, "It exploded a bit off, a random one dropped in the wrong place. I don't know if it was one of ours of one of theirs. I was close enough that it threw me and my comrades through the air. I landed on my face, and a piece of glass the size of my hand," he held up his gloved hand, "stuck to my cheek. I stood up and dusted myself off and turned to my friends. I couldn't feel a thing, because of the shock. They stared at me as I was a ghost," Luke smiled at the memory and his scar creased, "and then I fainted. It hurt like a bitch after they stitched it up."

Luke told Percy all about the war. Despite making it out as if everything was fine, telling jokes and funny stories about his comrades, Percy could tell that the war was a horrible experience for him. Of course he was. One of the nights, when it started raining, Luke told him that all his friends from Division Eleven were dead. That was when Percy hugged him for the second time. The first time was an impulse, a way for Percy to try and convey how thankful he was. The second hug happened because Percy wanted it to, because he wanted to feel Luke's warmth against him. He had got accustomed to the smell, he didn't really care about Luke's rags anymore. He wrapped his arms around the man without a warning and hugged his face into his shoulder.

"Aw, c'mon Perce, I'm all dirty and stuff...," Luke started protesting and then trailed off. He sounded chocked up and Percy smiled when he felt the man wrap his arms around Percy. The boy could feel the muscles underneath the multiple layers of clothes, hugging him close. His heart started pounding and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He wanted Luke to kiss him but by all means he  _shouldn't have._ Afterall Luke was still some old, dirty war veteran, but Percy's heart wouldn't listen to reason. It never could. 

***

It was eleven at night, three days before the Christmas Party and Percy was busy playing Smite on his laptop when it began to snow. At first Percy didn't notice it, but eventually the movement outside the window drew his attention. The boy was like a child. He hadn't seen snow in so long that he abandoned his game and pressed his nose against the glass of his window, turning off the lights and watching the thick white petals spiral to the ground with awe and wonder. Then Percy quickly dialled Leo's number,

"Mate, it's snowing," he whispered breathlessly, his heart clenching, his breath making a cloud against the glass.

"I know, it's a goddamn miracle," Leo laughed on the other side of the phone.

"We're making a snowman tomorrow. Or having a snow fight," Percy informed his friend excitedly.

"I don't know why you're so gassed, I'll win anyway," Leo teased.

"Where are you?" Percy frowned. Leo lived in the flat opposite his, but all the lights were out except in Piper's room. There was an uncertain pause at the end of the line,

"At Fr...at Mrs Zhang's place," Leo said quickly, "Looking after her."

And then Percy suddenly remembered. _Luke._ His smile disappeared off of his face and he quickly hanged up on Leo, not even saying goodbye. With horror the boy stared as the world was covered in white at an alarming pace. It didn't look like a Christmas miracle anymore, it looked like a disaster. Luke was probably sitting on the cold ground, freezing to death. 

It took Percy two minutes to shove on his coat and his shoes and he almost ran out of his flat without his keys. Not for the first time Percy thanked God that he only lived a couple roads away from Argo street because he didn't think he'd survive a taxi drive right now. Instead he sprinted through the dark, snow covered streets, his body aching. It was  _freezing,_ the wind nipping at Percy's exposed cheeks and hands. The boy shivered but his run warmed him up a bit. He could only imagine how cold Luke must've been, curled up in his alleyway. That made him run faster than he ever had. 

But when Percy got to Argo Street he found that Luke wasn't curled up in the alleyway. Instead he was standing in the middle of the snowy road, looking up at the sky and the snowflakes slowly spiralling downwards. His eyes looked green from the sign on the tattoo parlour, his hands in his pockets. Snowflakes gathered on top of his hat and beard, his nose was red. But he looked  _happy._ That made Percy stop and try and gasp for breath. The air was like ice in his lungs.

"Percy?" Luke must've heard his erratic breathing because he turned and frowned at the boy. His beard was almost white, making him look like Santa Claus, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I-I...," Percy had trouble breathing. He put his hands on his knees and forced his heart beat to slow down,

"Christ you don't even have a hat!" Luke yelled, and reached for his own. He stopped halfway, and thought better of it, "Why are you out here in the middle of the night? Did you forget something at the office?"

"I...it started snowing," Percy stuttered, straightening up. Luke was looking at him as if he was a complicated puzzle, "and I realised you're out on the street and that you're probably cold and..."

Luke's mouth twitched into a smile, "Idiot. I'm fine."

Percy should have just nodded and left it, but the idea of going back home and knowing Luke was spending the night alone and shivering on the ground was somehow unbearable.

"I want you to come with me," Percy said, determined to hold his own even though Luke's gaze was making his knees feel like jelly.

"Where?" the Wolf's eyes sparkled with amusement. Percy's cold hands twitched nervously,

"T-To my place," his teeth clattered and he hoped he wasn't offending Luke, "I don't want you to catch a cold."

Luke snorted, "Jeez, buy me dinner first."

Percy flushed bright red at the implication, "T-That's not what I meant!"

Luke rolled his eyes, "Relax, it was a joke."

"But...," Percy looked unsure, ignoring the way the 'joke' made him feel, "you'll come with me?"

Luke's expression darkened, "I don't want your-"

"It's not charity!" Percy growled in exasperation, knowing what Luke was going to say before he even said it, "or pity or anything like that! You're my  _friend_ and I hate the idea of you all alone here in the cold, freezing your stupid nose off so stop being so damn stubborn and just come home with me!"

Percy finished his little rant and he was breathing hard again and Luke was just staring at him,

"Okay," he said eventually. Percy's heart flipped in his chest.


	11. Act 2, Scene 5

** **

**LUKE**

Percy's flat was  _nice._ Actually it was probably just your normal, everyday flat but to Luke it looked amazing. First off - it was warm. When Luke came in through the door the heating enveloped him like the arms of an old lover and he almost moaned. He forgot that normal people had stuff like heat, water and food all day, every day. Luke vaguely remembered his own flat, but it was nothing like Percy's. For one - the walls in every room were painted a different shade of blue, which was kind of weird but Luke wasn't about to judge. The living room was small but cosy with a black leather couch and a dining table with a plate that Percy quickly cleared away. There was a TV, books, photographs on the wall. Luke was captivated by them, staring at the frames. There was an old, discoloured picture of a beautiful woman with dark hair holding a small boy with big, blue eyes in her lap.  _Percy,_ Luke realised with a start. In the other frames were more recent photos with Percy and his friends. There was one with a whole group of people from the post office, all dressed in their red raincoats. Another one showed Percy and loads of his friends in a photo-booth. It warmed his heart to see Percy so happy. 

Luke followed the boy into the kitchen like a shadow. He had a hand-made short lace curtain in the window, and a row of plants on the windowsill. Luke's heart twisted when he saw the rose he gave Percy weeks ago. It was dried, lying in front of the mismatches vases. 

"Sorry about the mess," Percy had pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and was hurriedly washing the dishes. Luke didn't care about the mess, he didn't  _see_ the mess. He saw a beautiful lived-in kitchen with stupid magnets on the fridge. It was a full fridge. Luke pressed a hand to his stomach to stop it from rumbling.

"You kept the rose," he said before he could stop himself. Percy glanced at the windowsill and blushed a bright red,

"I...uh...yeah...," he said awkwardly, staring at the plate in his hands as if he wanted to burn a hole in it, "Hey, um, why don't you go take a shower?" Percy blushed more, "Not that you need it! Um...okay, you kinda do...," Luke started laughing. It was adorable that Percy was so scared to offend him, "There's ah...some too big clothes in my closet. At least there should be," Percy frowned, "Just look around. Razor and towels are all in the bathroom, last door on the left."

Luke cleared his throat, feeling awkward all of a sudden. It didn't exactly feel like a charity...it just felt weird, "Thanks," was all Luke said, and then he quickly walked out of the kitchen. He padded down Percy's corridor, his heart pounding. A shower, a bed, those things were so  _weird_ to Luke. He had been on the streets for six years and such mundane things had just been wonderful memories. And now they were real. 

The door to Percy's bedroom was open and Luke slipped inside, feeling weirdly self conscious. He didn't fit in with this messily-cosy apartment with his rags and stink and overgrown beard. When he walked into Percy's bedroom he stopped for a second. There was a big, unmade bed with dark blue covers, a running laptop chucked on top of it. The closet was open, spilling out clothes onto the carpet. A one-eye blind cat was curled up in the corner, watching Luke with a detached sort of interest. With a shaky hand Luke reached to the light switch and shut the lights off. At once the room was drowned in darkness and Luke's gaze went to the massive window right next to the bed. Millions of lights shone happily from outside - London at night. The view was breathtaking. Luke hadn't seen anything apart from grey buildings for so long that all this was making him choke up...

 _It's not like you'll have it for long. Maybe one night, or until it stops snowing and then..._ Luke didn't want to think about that. He flipped the light back on and strode to the closet, determined to enjoy this while it lasted, no matter how much it seemed like a dream. He could go back to being the Lone Wolf, or Luke the hobo tomorrow, or the day after, or whenever Percy decided he was tired of him. 

After some rummaging, Luke found a shirt and a pair of sweatpants that looked like they would fit him. He wasn't about to look in Percy's underwear drawer so he decided to just go commando. The little one eyed cat circled around his ankles, meowing, but when Luke reached down to scratch behind its ear it dashed under Percy's bed. With a sigh Luke shuffled to the bathroom - which was just as nice as the rest of the house, small but clean, with fucking  _rubber_ _ducks_ lining the sink even though Percy had a shower and not a bath. Luke could hear the owner of the flat clattering in the kitchen. 

He shut the door and did something he was afraid to do in the past few years. He looked at himself in the mirror.

He suddenly wanted to cry. Catching a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface was nothing like fully staring into his own eyes, and seeing what a ruin he had become. With shaky hands, Luke slipped off his hat. His eyes were the only thing that were the same, bright and blue, and his scar of course. But he had become pale, his overgrown beard and wild hair making him look like a forty year old man. He was dirty, disgusting, he couldn't believe Percy could even stomach touching him. 

Luke hurriedly turned away and started stripping. His heart was beating horribly fast, his stomach was doing little flips inside him. Luke felt like he was peeling away layers of his own skin. He had spent  _years_ in those clothes and in seconds they became just a dark pile on Percy's tile floor. Luke stepped over them and promised himself he'd never wear them again. He wanted to set fire to them. Instead he just stepped into the shower. 

What happened next wasn't pleasant. Luke scrubbed himself so hard he thought his skin might come off. He used all six of Percy's body washes that had scents like 'cinnamon' or 'sea breeze.' The water changed to a weird colour as it went down the drain and Luke washed furiously until his body was red and couldn't be any cleaner. He shampooed his hair, then conditioned, then shampooed again but he still wasn't satisfied. But when Luke  _finally_ stepped out of the shower he felt like a newborn baby. He massacred the spare toothbrush with how much he brushed his teeth, then he clipped his nails which he hadn't done in ages. But when he looked in the mirror an old man  _still_ stared back at him. With a deep sigh Luke reached for the electric razor. 

**PERCY**

For a moment Percy thought about making Luke dinner, but he quickly remembered that he couldn't cook. Instead he called his favourite pizza place. When the guy asked about what kind of pizza he wanted, Percy froze again. He had no clue what Luke liked so he just decided to order a bunch of random ones and hope for the best. And then he was left with nothing to do. He circled the house aimlessly, cleaning up a little bit and listening to the sound of the shower. He wondered what he would do now.

He wanted Luke to stay, as weird as it would be for a twenty year old to live with a random forty-something year old. But Percy wanted Luke to sort his life out, he'd help him get a job, get a house, so the man never had to go back to the streets. But for now Percy just wanted to make sure that Luke was alright, he wanted to take care of him, a lot. He knew Luke hated it though, feeling so helpless. But for once Percy was going to put his foot down and  _force_ him to stay, at least until they found a better place for him. Luke was a fucking war hero, he didn't deserve to live in some dirty corner for the rest of his life.

Percy didn't know how long he walked around, jittery with nerves. He re-arranged his pillows three times, scrolled through Facebook, looked in the fridge half a dozen times, and  _finally_ the pizza came. Percy paid the guy with shaky hands and then quickly carried the stack of boxes to the kitchen. He glared at his hands and tried to force them to stop trembling.  _God I'm an idiot..._ the boy walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch. 

When the door to the bathroom opened, Percy almost jumped. He desperately looked for something to do so he didn't look like he had been waiting around for Luke, but the second he got to his feet, Luke walked in. Percy's heart did a tumble in his chest and his stomach flipped wildly. A swarm of butterflies exploded in Percy's little intestine and his eyes widened.

Luke wasn't a forty year old man, as if turned out. Actually, he was a  _completely_ different person than to what Percy thought he was. Percy didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't  _this_. Luke was...gorgeous, for one. The only thing that stayed the same were his eyes, which Percy always got lost in, and his scar. He buzz-cut his hair, and his beard was completely gone, so Percy could see his amazing jawline and properly admire that annoying smirk he always sent Percy's way. He was skinny, of course he was, but most of him was made up of wiry muscle. Dressed in Percy's Stony Island t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants you would have never thought he was a hobo living on the streets just a few hours ago. 

"H-How old are you?" Percy managed eventually, feeling like his knees were about to give out. Luke blinked at him. He was a good three inches taller than Percy, which Percy had always accepted because he thought Luke was a lot older than him.

"Twenty six," Luke shrugged. Percy leaned against the couch, his heart punching him in the ribs. 

"What the hell?" he rubbed his face with his hand, trying to understand what just happened.

"What?" Luke frowned, 

"You're...I-I...," Percy shook his head, "I thought you were an old man! And here you are a-and you're...you're...," he stared at Luke. The man stared back at him. Now Percy  _really_ wanted him to kiss him. Instead he whispered, "Pizza's in the kitchen."

Luke nodded and disappeared to go eat the food and Percy got a few moments with just his thoughts. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing because  _damn_ the only thing he could think about was how all this time he was crushing on a guy who was only a few years older than him. On one hand that was a relief because at least (if everything went the way Percy wanted it to) the boy wouldn't have to explain to his friends why he was dating a man who was a good twenty years his senior. On the other hand, Luke's change in appearance was  _really_ not helping Percy's already confused mind and body. 

A meow came from next to Percy's foot and the boy smiled at his shabby little one-eyed cat, picking him up and walking into the kitchen. Luke was leaning against the counter, tentatively nibbling on a slice of margarita pizza, 

"You not hungry?" Percy asked. 

"Nah, wouldn't want to throw up though," Luke looked uncomfortable, "I haven't had proper food in a while."

Percy cleared his throat and scratched behind his cat's ear, "This is Tyson, my cat."

"What happened to his eye?" Luke asked, finishing his pizza. Percy tried not to look at the other man too much because his stomach felt weird when he did. 

"He had a fight with bigger cats. I found him on the street a year ago, he was all bloodied and stuff...," Percy trailed off because Luke came close to pet the cat. The dark haired boy stared at him as Luke lent down to his level and grinned at the cat,

"We're almost the same, buddy," he laughed as the cat meowed at him. Percy's heart stuttered. Luke was inches away, and despite Percy's initial shock, he realised that it was still the same man that chased him around the streets simply because he felt like it. Sure, he smelled like Percy's shampoo and aftershave now which was a nice change, and the beard and crazy hair was gone, but his voice was the same, all deep and hoarse, and his eyes still looked at Percy like he was some massive mystery that Luke was trying to figure out.

Tyson jumped from Percy's arms and padded into the living room, clearly losing interest in the two men. That's when Luke looked at Percy and for a second they just stared at each other, holding their breath. Percy's hands were trembling, the little air that there was between him and Luke seemed to crackle with electricity. Luke cleared his throat and stepped away and Percy's shoulders slumped.  _I can't expect anything from him,_ Percy chided himself as he reached for some pizza, _clearly he doesn't feel anything for me, and I'd hate for him to feel like he somehow needs to please me just because I helped him out._

"Hey, we should watch some Netflix," Percy said, trying to break the tension. Luke raised an eyebrow,

"Some  _what_?"

Percy laughed despite himself and Luke cracked a smile too, "It's like an app where you can watch stuff."

"Sure, we can watch the Net...whatever," he shook his head. Percy was grinning as he walked into the living room. He was going for the couch but then he saw that none other than Tyson was spread on it like the King of the world.

"Fucks sake," Percy sighed. Luke peered at the cat over the dark haired boy's shoulder,

"Can't we move him?"

"Do you  _want_ to die?"

"Death by pussy?" Luke offered. Percy wrinkled his nose,

"Ew. No," he said, and then sighed, "Right, I guess we should sleep then."

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired actually," Luke agreed, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. The two exchanged a look, and Percy glanced at the couch. 

"So...uh, I was gonna give you the bed and I was gonna sleep on the couch-"

" _Sure_ you were," Luke grinned. Percy rolled his eyes,

"Seriously! But since Tyson the asshole took up the couch I guess we'll have to share the bed," he glanced at Luke nervously, "is that okay?"

"Percy. I spent years sleeping on the pavement, I don't mind a bit of sharing," the blonde frowned, "as long as you don't mind sleeping with  _me_."

"Why would I mind?" Percy asked but Luke just shook his head and didn't reply.

**LUKE**

The bed was almost  _too_ soft. Luke laid on the left side drawn tight as a bowstring, trying to get comfortable and at the same time not wanting to move around too much, scared of annoy Percy. He felt like he was lying in a pile of marshmallows. Luke didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep in this position and he wanted to take the floor, but he thought that that would be rude since Percy offered his own bed to the blonde. Luke still didn't understand why Percy came for him, why he was so desperate to try and help him, but he was glad that he finally buried his pride and went with Percy. A few more months on the streets and he really might've gone crazy. 

Luke turned around slowly, trying not to wake Percy. He now faced the boy's back and he stared at the boy's neck, trying to will himself to sleep. Percy's hair looked really soft and Luke suddenly had the urge to reach out and touch it. He wanted to run his fingers through it, brush it away from Percy's face. He wanted to press himself against the boy's back and wrap his arms around him, hold him close. 

With a cute little sound Percy twisted around and Luke tensed. But the boy was asleep, his body moving on its own accord. As if searching for Luke's warmth the boy shifted closer but Luke scooted away, his heart pounding. After a few minutes when Percy just breathed deeply and didn't move, Luke relaxed again. He was so damn awake. He studied Percy's face, his eyebrows which would crease every few minutes as if Percy was having a bad dream. Luke never paid attention to how cute Percy's nose was, or how long his eyelashes were. The boy's lips were parted slightly so he could breathe and Luke wanted to kiss him so bad he had to clench his hand into his pillow to stop himself. And Percy's eyes were so  _beautiful,_ a mix of blue and green that looked like black in this light-

Wait. Why the fuck were his eyes open?!

"Luke?" Percy asked sleepily, his voice hoarse from sleep. Luke's heart flipped,

"Sorry did I wake you?"

"No," Percy mumbled and blinked sluggishly as if forcing himself to stay awake, "I had a weird dream," before Luke could even ask, Percy explained, "We were in like...armour or something," he frowned, "by this little lake in a forest. And this scorpion was coming at me and I couldn't move, and then you killed it with a sword and then...," Percy trailed off and frowned, his eyes sleepy.

"Then what?" Luke prompted. Percy closed his eyes and pulled the blanket all the way up to his chin,

"It doesn't matter," he whispered drowsily. He wasn't really communicating properly, he probably wouldn't even remember this conversation in the morning. Luke swallowed hard and worked up his courage,

"Can I touch you?" he asked softly. Percy opened his eyes again, but only halfway as if he didn't have the strength to stay awake properly. He nodded, his eyes fluttering shut again. With his pulse escalating, Luke slipped his arms underneath the blankets and carefully found Percy's waist. He held his breath as he pulled the boy into his chest, but Percy didn't protest. Instead the boy snuggled up against Luke, a little ball of warmth in his arms.  _God he's perfect,_ Luke thought, looking down at the boy in his arms. 

And then Percy had to ruin everything by pressing himself just _right_. Luke felt all of his blood rush south with no warning as he hardened. The man's eyes widened but Percy didn't seem to notice as he just pressed himself impossibly closer, right against Luke's cock. The blonde bit his lip to stop the groan that was building up in his throat. His arms tightened around Percy on their own accord. Luke tried to control himself, tried to will his boner to go away, but it wasn't working, not with Percy right there pressed right against him like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Luke knew the exact moment when Percy woke up. He felt the boy tense so Luke relaxed, pretending he was asleep. Otherwise he wouldn't know how he would explain the weird hard-on. For a while nothing happened, Luke loosely hugged Percy and tried to keep his breathing even while the boy against his chest held his breath. Luke thought Percy would carefully extract himself and pull away or something. Instead the boy surprised him, as always, by pushing himself up so his face was against Luke's neck and their bodies were aligned, and then he slowly rocked forward. 

Percy's own hard-on rubbed against Luke's and the blonde's eyes flew open as he sucked in a startled breath. 

"I knew you weren't asleep," Percy looked up at him. He bit his lip and grinded forward again. Luke's mouth fell open as he moaned silently, feeling a sudden shot of pleasure go up his spine and his hand went down to grip Percy's hip and stop him from moving,

"W-What are you doing?" Luke demanded, terrified at how breathless he sounded. Percy looked up at him, some sleepiness still in him,

"You're hard," he mumbled, "I'll help out."

He tried to slide their cocks together again and it took all of Luke's willpower to stop him. 

"N-No...," he said, gritting his teeth together. It was a long time since he was turned on, "It's alright. You don't have to do that. I'll go to the bathroom-"

"I want this," Percy said stubbornly, his eyes dark with lust. It made Luke's breath catch, especially when Percy's eyes turned unsure as if he was scared Luke was going to turn him down, "I want  _you."_

How was Luke meant to say no to that?

He leaned forward and kissed Percy. It was meant to be a gentle, inviting kiss but instead Luke lost control over his body and kissed Percy like this was the only chance he ever got. He roughly pushed Percy flat on his back and climbed on top of him, his hands gripping Percy's hips. Luke never understood the hype over kissing, to him it was just an additional thing to do and whenever he had sex with his girlfriend they rarely did it. But now Luke understood why people liked it so much. Percy was an amazing kisser, his lips parting to let Luke's tongue into his mouth and then battling for dominance. Percy put up a good fight, his hands cupping Luke's face, but when the blonde bit at his lower lip Percy surrendered with a moan that sent a shiver through Luke's body. 

The blonde's mind was completely clouded by sudden want. He kissed Percy violently, exploring his mouth as if trying to memorise it. It was hot and sloppy, their lips slid together in a messy dance. Their hands were wandering with a desperation as they kissed. Luke's hands went up Percy's shirt to explore his chest. When his fingers brushed against the boy's nipple, Percy's legs felt apart. Luke smirked into their kiss and roughly twisted Percy's nipple with his fingers, feeling it harden. Percy moaned into his mouth and Luke swallowed it greedily, determined to elicit more of those sounds from the boy. But he didn't know what Percy wanted, or how far he wanted to go. 

"Percy...," Luke pulled away and tried to move his hand from Percy's chest but the boy crashed their lips back together, one of his hands gripping the back of Luke's neck to stop him from moving, the other one grabbing Luke's hand through his shirt and guiding it back up to his nipple. Luke wasn't about to argue so he went back to his ministrations, his mind going all weird and cloudy again. He could only think about the feel of Percy against him, his skin, his lips, his hands, the wonderful way he smelled. 

Luke forcefully pulled away again and before Percy could argue, he pulled his own shirt off and chucked it to the side. Percy stared at him with wide eyes and Luke hoped to Jesus that he liked what he saw. He grabbed the hem of Percy's shirt an tugged it over the boy's shirt, revealing deliciously tanned skin and a nicely muscled body. Luke bent his head down and took one of Percy's nipples into his mouth. The boy's moan turned into a cry when one of Luke's hands went between his legs to palm at his cock through his boxers. Luke made a mental note to not let Percy touch him anytime soon because he was pretty sure he was ready to come. 

"L-Luke...," Percy whimpered breathlessly as Luke switched to the other nipple. He tried to remember how the fuck they got into this situation in the first place, but his mind could only concentrate on  _Percy, Percy, Percy_ so Luke decided to let it go. Instead he kissed down Percy's gorgeous body, nipping at his skin and dipping his tongue into his navel. By the time he made it to the hem of his underwear, Percy was squirming. 

"Tell me where you want to stop," Luke murmured, kissing Percy's pelvis. 

"I don't want to stop," Percy said helplessly, looking down at Luke between his legs, "I want to go all the way."

Luke felt his mouth go dry, "Percy-" he tried to protest, because he didn't know why the hell Percy, that beautiful idiot, would want to go that far with  _him_ of all people. Percy tugged him back up for another kiss, but somehow it felt different, reassuring, more passionate. 

"Make love to me," Percy whispered against Luke's lips. That was precisely when the blonde decided that he was done questioning the boy's decisions. He reached down and  _ripped_ Percy's boxers right off of him, and Percy let out a breathless laugh that turned into a moan. 

"Lube?" Luke asked. He had sex with a few guys before his girlfriend, but those memories were fuzzy and he didn't even remember the names of those people. But he still kind of knew what he was doing. Percy fumbled in the bedside table and bought out a half finished bottle. Luke felt a pang go through him, "Been getting a lot of action, have we?" he tried to joke. Percy blushed vividly,

"I...uh...n-no," he mumbled, "I just...used it up. Myself," he cleared his throat and looked away. Luke stared at him and images flashed in his mind. Percy lying on the bed, moaning, his own fingers deep inside of himself...Luke's cock hardened more, if that was even possible and he quickly coated his fingers with the lube, determined to at least get inside Percy before he came. 

**PERCY**

Luke was fingering him so hard Percy thought he might pass out from the pleasure wrecking his body. It felt so different than his own fingers, and since Percy had only ever been with girls the sensation of someone else's fingers inside of him was new, and quite literally mind blowing. Percy knew he was a mess, but he was long past caring. He cried out every time Luke's fingers twisted inside him, making that wonderful burning pleasure spark up inside him. It hurt, but fuck Percy loved that. Luke was sucking a line of hickeys into his neck while his fingers mercilessly abused Percy's prostate, dragging him dangerously close to the edge. Percy's head was thrown back against the pillows, his toes curling as he moaned helplessly.

"H-Harder," Percy whined and somehow Luke obliged. Percy's head swam, he felt drunk, "More, Christ L-Luke..."

Luke withdrew his fingers, leaving Percy feeling empty. The boy whined and Luke just looked down on him with soft eyes that didn't match the violent actions that just took place. Every time Percy looked at him, his breath was taken away. Luke was just so  _gorgeous._ Percy didn't think he'd ever have the guts to have sex with a guy but he found that he trusted Luke completely, and would probably let him do anything to him right now.

"Condoms?" Luke asked in his hoarse voice that sent shivers down Percy's spine. Percy pulled himself up onto his elbow and clumsily reached to the bedside table. Luke took his hand and kissed it and then he leaned over and pulled out the unopened box of condoms. Percy closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath as Luke rolled the condom onto his cock. Percy didn't know how the blonde felt, but he himself was not regretting anything, at least not yet. His body hummed with pleasure, his stomach was all up in knots, and he just wanted Luke inside him, making him his.

Luke slid back in-between Percy's open legs, "You sure you're okay?"

" _Yes_ ," Percy groaned, half in annoyance and half in need, "Just f-fuck me before I go crazy."

Luke grinned and positioned himself at Percy's entrance. And then he was pushing in. Percy threw his head back against the pillows again, crying out as the burn came back, intensified. It felt so good Percy had to close his eyes to stop from screaming. It hurt, like a bitch, but Percy liked that, he liked that Luke was rough. The blonde was trying to go slow, but at one point he must've given up because he slammed into Percy so roughly that the bed shook. Percy moaned, feeling deliciously full. His body ached, and need coiled up inside him. He opened his eyes and saw that Luke had his own eyes squeezed shut,

"Move," Percy whimpered, "Luke just..."

"Give me a moment," Luke groaned, his arms shaking. Percy frowned, 

"I'm f-fine...," he said, panting, "It's alright, just m-move-"

"No," Luke growled, looking down at Percy. His eyes were black, just a thin ring of blue around them, " _I_ need a moment. Or I think I'll come."

" _Fuck_ ," Percy whimpered, his body aching with need, "Do it. C-Come inside me, fuck L-Luke I want you to-"

"Stop talking," Luke growled, "Or I'll seriously fucking finish right here, right now," he bent down and kissed Percy's neck, and then he bit it, hard enough to draw blood. Percy whined and his hips stuttered up. Luke gasped and his hand slammed down on Percy's hip, keeping him down, "D-Don't fucking do that...," Luke whimpered. Percy's body was shaking with the need for Luke to fuck him, his cock leaking pre-cum all over his stomach, "You're so tight...Christ,  _why_ are you so tight?"

Percy pulled Luke up for a desperate kiss, he  _needed_ to be touched, "You're my first," he whispered, kissing Luke in between the words. 

"Percy  _fuck_ ," Luke's head dropped back to Percy's shoulder as he shivered violently. He kissed Percy's shoulder, trying to control himself but Percy was past that. He didn't care if Luke came in two seconds, he just needed him to move, to fuck him properly. 

"Please," Percy begged, and he didn't even care how needy he sounded, "P-Please, Luke...I need you, j-just move, I-I can't take it... _please_ -"

Luke pulled out and Percy inhaled sharply, the breath coming out as a cry when Luke slammed back in. Percy melted against the pillows as the blonde thrust into him with violent precision, hitting his prostate dead-on. Percy saw white, he couldn't concentrate. Luke's sweaty body slid against his as Percy was suddenly abused. His insides felt like jelly, his hole was burning with pleasure, ecstasy coursed through Percy and he couldn't help moaning and screaming and crying. He felt so good that he thought he might die. Luke's hand wrapped around his cock and he started stroking Percy in rhythm to his thrusts, 

"No... _N-No_...," Percy whined, his back arching to try and push himself further down onto Luke's cock, "Stop...S-Stop, I'm going to come, L-Luke..."

"Good," Luke growled. His eyes were dazed but he was staring down at Percy, his eyes hungry. He moaned suddenly and dropped his head back to Percy's shoulder, his thrusts slowed, "S-Shit...Percy I w-won't last...," he was shaking and Percy was surprised he even lasted  _this_ long. He pulled Luke in for a sloppy kiss and Luke kissed him passionately and desperately, his hips stuttering, his cock impaling Percy with every thrust. The man tensed suddenly and let out a hoarse cry against Percy's skin, 

" _Yes_ , f-fuck...," Percy's eyes closed as Luke sank his teeth into his shoulder. Percy saw white, his body felt like it exploded, the pleasure was unbearable and Percy came all over his chest and Luke's hand, shivering and sobbing. It was so intense he blacked out for a few seconds, and when his brain finally caught up with his body Percy realised he was whispering something against Luke's shoulder feverishly, "I love you, I love you, _I love you_..."


	12. Act 2, Scene 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments <3  
> To:  
> Nerdyfangirlfeels - Nah when Leo said 'i don't know why you're so gassed' I meant it in a 'i don't know why you're so excited way' so i guess it still makes sense? Idk, hope so. And I'm actually from West, and I assume you're a Londoner yourself?  
> Amura - I thought Blood of Olympus was really good though I felt the battle of Demigods and Gods VS giants was a bit rushed? Idk if it's just me but overall it was really great and I though the ending really concluded everything. Obviously I didn't like that we didn't see everyone's reactions to Leo coming back to life but I can live with that, and I really wanted to see more Solangelo! :( I think Nico changed a lot in my eyes since lots of chapters were from his POV now, and it just made him seem like even more of an angry, sad, need-a-hug marshmallow. What did you think?

** **

**PERCY**

Luke ignored those stupid words that Percy had said during sex, and the boy was glad for it. He was scared that they'd wake up in the morning and everything would be weird and awkward, but instead he woke up with Luke's lips around his cock and everything was perfectly fine. Percy went to work,  _forcing_ Luke to stay at his flat and rest a bit. When he came home Luke had made spaghetti and Percy had never felt so cared for in ages. Neither of them mentioned those three stupid words, and life went on. 

But Percy's confession still bugged him. He hadn't meant to say those words, they just kind of spilled out. And Percy was scared he meant them. Whenever he thought about Luke leaving him or the flat, disappearing off the streets, his stomach twisted painfully and he felt like puking. He felt responsible for Luke, even though the guy was bigger and older, and somehow Percy's feelings of care and curiosity changed into something much bigger than he could comprehend over the space of a few weeks. Percy had never been in love, and he didn't know how to come to terms with his jumbled up emotions, didn't know how to label them. 

He and Luke fucked any chance they got. It was another new thing that confused Percy, because every time the two came together his helpless love for Luke would just grow in his chest until Percy couldn't breathe. Every touch was electrifying, every kiss intense to the point that Percy's body ached when he wasn't near Luke. But despite the pleasure and the pain and the easy-going banter between the two men, Percy couldn't help but feel insecure. He had _I love you_ even though he didn't want to (he preferred to keep them to himself), and now he was scared that Luke would throw them back in his face. Outside of their sexual escapades, Luke rarely touched Percy. He didn't kiss him, didn't say he loved him, just treated him like a friend or a roommate, or worse...

Like a friend with benefits.

Percy knew he couldn't stand to be that, to let Luke touch him like that and open up his heart to him only to be considered a fuck buddy, someone just there for the time-being. For three days of working and trying to find Luke a job online, cooking and arguing, taking care of Luke when he had his nightmares, Percy was in a constant battle with himself. A part of him just wanted to give in and let Luke have his way with him as long as he wanted, no matter the outcome, but the second part wanted to know exactly what the blonde's intentions were, and what he wanted from Percy. Maybe that's why he asked Luke to come to the Christmas Party with him.

God knows why Luke said yes.

*** 

Everything was going perfectly well, until suddenly it wasn't. Luke and Percy were making rounds together, their shoulders close together, grinning at Percy's friends. Well, Percy was grinning at Luke, who looked fucking stunning in the suit Percy had borrowed him. He introduced Luke as 'Cas' because his last name was Castellan, and because he didn't want everyone to know that he was the hobo who just days ago prowled their streets. Reyna, from Olympus, seemed to be the most suspicious of the newcomer. 

"So how did you two meet?" she asked over her margarita, her eyes narrowing at Luke as if she was trying to place where she recognised him from. Luke kept his cool but Percy wanted to turn him around and walk off with him to try and wipe away Reyna's suspicious look. Several people were on the dancefloor, the postmen from Hermes' for once rid of their red capes. Percy's eyes scanned the room as Luke made up some bullshit excuse about Percy being his postman for weeks and how he asked him for a date. Percy was too busy looking around to pay attention to the conversation. He saw Jason in the corner, glaring at his drink as if it broke his heart. The love of his life was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Nico?" Percy asked, interrupting Reyna mid-word. The girl looked around and shrugged,

"Dunno. Someone said he had to stay at the shop."

"This late?" Percy raised an eyebrow. Reyna just shrugged again. Hazel waltzed over, a little bit drunk and started giggling and without asking grabbed Percy's hand and pulled him onto the dance floor, "What are you-"

"Let's dance!" the girl slurred, grinning like an idiot. Percy couldn't help the warmth that bloomed in his chest. Hazel was downright hopeless sometimes. He spun her around and she squealed. All around them people were spinning and dancing and laughing, drunk or sober it didn't matter, everyone was having a good time. Well, except Mike and Jason, who were brooding together over their whiskey. Hazel kicked off her shoes and Percy pulled her into his arms, waltzing around with her wildly and laughing like a pair of kids. Percy felt drunk on the atmosphere. The room was dark and he was warm and flushed, and he was surrounded by his friends.

"Nico!" Hazel yelled suddenly and broke away from Percy to dash across the room to where Nico had just come in, dressed in a nice suit. Percy smirked when he saw Jason gaping at him like the love-struck idiot that he was. Michael had disappeared somewhere. A small crowd gathered around the newcomer, Drew and Kelli and Jason and Hazel and Reyna, but Percy lost interest in them as soon as Leo popped up in front of him. His eyes were blood-shot and he didn't look like he knew what he was doing. He shoved a glass of whiskey into Percy's hand,

"Drink it," he said, swaying on his feet. Percy frowned,

"Why?"

"Because if you don't then I will," Leo beamed like a happy child who just informed their parents that he pooped their pants. Leo looked pretty hammered already so to help his friend out, Percy downed the whiskey. He made a face as the taste filled his mouth and slid down his throat to become a pool of heat in his stomach. He gave the glass to Leo who took it and stumbled back to Piper, who didn't look like she was in any better state. Then Piper glanced at Percy and rushed over to hand them another drink. Apparently he aim of their night was to get him drunk off his head. The new drink was vodka and Percy really didn't know why he drank it, since mixing  _never_ ended well. Nico walked past him and waved, and Percy waved back even though his head felt funny. He was always a lightweight and even now his stomach did a flip and he hiccuped and smiled stupidly, the alcohol making his body thrum pleasantly. 

"May I have this dance?" Luke was suddenly standing in front of Percy, looking gorgeous in the dim light, his eyes dark but soft. Percy wanted to tell him that he was beautiful. He wanted to kiss him. The alcohol in his head whispered that he should.  _Chasing Cars_ was playing as Luke pulled him into his arms. Percy settled into the familiar warmth and let Luke guide him in the slow dance. He inhaled. Luke smelled all nice and spicy, but also like Percy since he used his body wash and shampoo, and deodorant and cologne. Percy thought the smell suited Luke better than himself. The blonde pulled him closer. He was so damn _warm._ The room was spinning a bit but Percy didn't mind because it was an excuse for him to press himself more against Luke. The blonde spun him around and Percy laughed before he landed back in the man's arms. He wasn't sure which way was up, and which down, 

"Are you drunk?" Luke asked. He had to lean in close and speak into Percy's ear so the boy could hear him over the music. Percy shivered, feeling Luke's breath ghost over his neck. 

"Noooo," Percy protested and then giggled. Fuck, he really was a lightweight. Luke rolled his eyes fondly and pulled Percy off of the dance-floor, which was steadily becoming more and more packed. Percy's hand was firmly in Luke's. Percy marvelled at how rough Luke's palm was, and how firm his grip was. Percy liked when he held his hand, he wished Luke would do it more often. Before he knew it, Percy was sitting in the dark corner of the room with Luke next to him. 

"Drink this, idiot," Luke opened a bottle of water and carefully pressed it into Percy's hands, "I don't want you puking all over the bed."

"Our bed," Percy mumbled fondly and sipped at the water. He didn't like the taste. Luke looked tense all of a sudden but Percy couldn't focus on his facial expression. The lights seemed to be flashing, the beat of the music making Percy's entire being vibrate. 

"You know I can't stay with you," Luke said softly, almost apologetically, brushing Percy's hair from his forehead. Percy frowned,

"Why not?" he slurred. He tried to get his mind to work properly but it was painfully slow, and his body was just as sluggish. Did Luke want to leave the party already? "You don't have to go," Percy mumbled, "I like you. I like  _being_ with you."

"I'm a homeless guy," Luke said in exasperation.

"No you're n-not...you have a home. My home. My house. Me...you have me," Percy rambled, trying to understand why Luke wanted to leave all of a sudden. 

"I don't deserve that."

Percy felt his heart breaking but he didn't know why,

"I love you," he whispered, and for once he didn't regret it. He was too drunk to care, he just wanted Luke to stay with him, "I love you and I-I want you to stay."

"Christ, don't say that," Luke turned away. Percy's stomach tightened and he felt sick all of a sudden. 

"Luke..."

"I'll move out tonight," the blonde said, his face in the shadows. Percy was dizzy, "You shouldn't say you love me. You don't mean it. Christ, you just like taking care of me. Why would you say something as stupid as I love you?" Luke was growling now, angry. Percy's heart pounded to the beat of the music, "You don't love me. You shouldn't love me. I'm a dirty street rat you took pity on, don't mix that up with love. You're an idiot if you think there's anything between us-"

"I get it," Percy whispered, even though he didn't get it at all. He tried to push the pain in his chest away enough so he could concentrate, "You don't love me."

Luke looked at him for a second, "No," he whispered slowly, "I don't."

Percy felt a void in his chest, and then a terrible pain. He felt tears gathering in his eyes but he wasn't about to let Luke see him like this. God, what an idiot Percy was. Why did he ever think Luke would share his feelings? He was just an easy fuck to him, and nothing more and Percy cared  _so much._ He hated himself for it. Hated himself for falling in love with someone as unattainable as Luke.  

He saw Nico slip outside and Percy decided that that was a brilliant idea. Without another word to Luke he got up and stumbled across the hall, which now felt unbearably hot and claustrophobic and rattled down the stairs, almost falling and tripping. It had stopped snowing outside, but the ground was layered in snow and it was piercingly cold. Percy had forgot his coat and now he shivered, sniffling and trying to keep his tears at bay. Everything hurt. Nico was leaning against the wall heavily, looking as bad as Percy felt. 

"Nico?" Percy asked, because he didn't know what else to say. His eyes stung and he just kind of wanted someone to hold him, to tell him it was okay. He wanted _Luke_ to hold him, to take everything he just said back. Nico looked at him and frowned,

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. Percy's legs were shaking so bad that he had to collapse on the wall next to Nico, leaning against it and trying to control his beating heart. The sky was dark. 

"Guy problems," Percy muttered. He didn't know how to explain, his alcohol-riddled mind grasped for words, but he couldn't seem to be able to piece them together properly, "You know that moment when you think someone likes you, but they're just playing with you?" he slurred, and then shook his head. How could he have ever thought that Luke might feel something for him? "Fuck, Nico, I'm such an  _idiot,_ " tears finally spilled down Percy's cheeks, and he didn't even try and stop them. He felt so damn used, like an object and not a person. He never thought that anything could hurt so bad. A desperate sob build up in Percy's chest,

"Fuck this," Nico growled, eyes flashing angrily, "I'll beat him up, whoever he is."

Percy just shook his head. But the fact that Nico wanted to fight for him made him feel a tiny bit better. Even though Luke rejected him, Percy still had his friends, his co-workers, all the people he had before Luke was Luke, back when he was just the old hobo or the Lone Wolf. The sound of fast footsteps on the stairs made Percy flinch violently, and then shiver. He peeked into the doorway, and froze. In the dimness he saw a blonde figure quickly coming down the stairs. Panic gripped at Percy's throat. He couldn't face Luke, not now. 

"Shit that's him," he swore helplessly. Then an idea came to him - what if somehow he made Luke jealous? What if it would make Luke feel possessive, even just for the fact that he liked to fuck Percy and didn't want to see him with anybody else? Percy knew it was stupid, knew that in that way he'd never be able to get Luke to love him, but God he had to try. He met Nico's eyes, "Fuck, let me kiss you."

"W-What?!" Nico spluttered. Percy gripped his shoulders, his hands shaking, 

"If he sees us then m-maybe...," Percy's lower lip trembled. He didn't know how to explain, "Maybe...," his head swam, and the world tilted. He missed the part where Nico kissed him and just felt the lips against his. They just felt like lips. There was no spark, no tug at Percy's insides the way it was with Luke. There were no butterflies, no pounding heart. It was just a stupid kiss and Percy felt like shit because he realised it would never be the same with anyone else. He felt tears prick at the back of his eyelids and he quickly pulled away. Suddenly he regretted his idea, and didn't want to look Luke in the face. God he was pathetic. 

But Nico looked like he just got slapped in the face and it made Percy slowly turn around.

"Shit," he whispered helplessly. Instead of seeing Luke, Percy saw Jason standing in front of him, looking at Nico as if the boy had just punched him in the gut. Percy's heart twisted and he felt like puking again. He couldn't believe he just did that in front of Jason. He...he...Percy's mind trailed off.  _Luke didn't even come after me,_ the thought left Percy's eyes full of tears and bitterness in his throat. 

"Is this why?" Jason asked in a trembling voice, focusing on Nico and ignoring Percy who swayed unsteadily on his feet, "Is this why you avoided me? Why you didn't want to go out? Christ, why didn't you just tell me?" Percy couldn't listen to them. He wanted to get away. Not only did he ruin whatever there could have been with Luke with stupid confessions, but now he also ruined Nico's and Jason's blooming relationship.

"No, Jason you've misunderstood-" Nico started but then he frowned, "Wait, why do you even care?"  _He loves you, you idiot!_ Percy wanted to scream,  _He loves you and Luke doesn't love me, so just accept his love!_

"Are you  _blind_?" Jason yelled. Percy sniffed and tried to fight the tears, losing miserably. 

"I don't get why you're so pissed at me," Nico hissed. Suddenly Luke appeared out of the doorway, his eyes wide. Percy felt like he had been stabbed. Luke looked at him and immediately his expression fell, and his eyes softened. He looked like he wanted to pull Percy into his arms, but the boy didn't care because his body physically hurt. He couldn't breathe, it just hurt too fucking much. 

"Percy?" Luke asked gently. Percy's vision was blurry with tears. 

"Fuck  _you_ ," he whispered brokenly, because he couldn't say anything else, and then he turned on his heel and ran, wanting to get away from everything as fast as possible. He didn't want to see the look of betrayal on Jason's face, or guilt on Nico's or regret on Luke's. But there were footsteps running after him. Percy sped up. All of the other times when Luke had chased him through the streets flashed in his mind, and Percy's heart pounded desperately trying to get blood around his body fast enough. The boy didn't really know where he was going, he just wanted to get the fuck away from Luke, and everything else for the matter. For one stupid moment he thought he might've been faster, but Luke was just toying with him. He had been from the beginning, all those times he let Percy out-run him as if he really had a shot, the time he gave Percy the rose that fucked up all of his emotions, and everything that came after. It was all just another game to Luke, and this time he was determined to win. 

The blonde overtook Percy a few streets away from the hall they rented, and he dashed suddenly in front of Percy the way he had when he gave him that flower, but this time Percy managed to stop himself so he didn't run into him. Luke looked at him pleadingly and opened his mouth, and Percy turned on his heel, wanting to get away the way he came. Luke grabbed his wrist roughly and pushed Percy into the closest wall. 

**LUKE**

He tried to distance himself, tried to back away from Percy after that first night. The confession had scared him, because how could Percy love him?! They had no future together, Luke was a literal  _no one,_ and Percy was just a stupid kid blinded by what he  _thought_ was love. And Luke didn't want to be disappointed, he didn't want to open up and accept Percy's love and admit that he loved him back only to be chucked away again after a while. But every time Luke prepared himself to just leave, Percy would appear and grin at him and say something stupid and funny, and Luke wouldn't know how to express that stupid feeling that built up in his heart in any other way than pushing Percy down onto the closest surface and fucking him raw, and promising himself he'd go the next day. 

It was unhealthy, but everything about Luke was. He was afraid that if he showed affection, that if he confessed to Percy, everything would fall to pieces. Because sooner of later Percy would realise that Luke was no good, and he'd turn him away. 

Luke's nightmares weren't gone. They had kept at bay when he was on the streets because all of that had been nightmare enough. But the second Luke felt safe again, they came back full force. For the three nights he slept at Percy's side, he was plagued by them. They were violent, images that made no sense, flashing through Luke's mind like slaps. Gunshots echoed through his brain, grenade explosions whirled in his mind. He heard shouted commands and the screams of dying comrades, he felt a searing pain in his cheek where his scar was. Every night it was the same, choppers in the air, and miles of sand going on forever and men crawling through it, dying at their posts, cut down by shadows with no faces...and for what? Glory? Honour? All they ended up getting was a nice tombstone and a medal. 

Luke woke up each of those nights with Percy leaning over him, the boy's hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with worried, kind eyes.

"It's okay," the boy would whisper softly as Luke struggled for breath, "It's alright. You're safe," and Percy would hug him fiercely, or kiss him, or pull Luke on top of him and everything would be fine. But that was how Luke's girlfriend started off all those years ago. She got tired eventually, and Percy would too. Luke just hoped he'd survive the moment when Percy left him, maybe if he didn't admit to himself that he was in love with the boy everything would be easier?

And yet Luke still found himself chasing after Percy, desperate to catch him and explain. He should have just let him go like he had all those times before but instead his mind shut down and he just wanted Percy in his arms, safe, forever. When Luke saw him crying...he regretted all the shit he said before, and God he wished he could take it back. In an effort to try and not get hurt by Percy's eventual rejection, Luke didn't realise that he was hurting Percy. 

He overtook Percy and pushed the boy against a wall, just to stop him from running away. Luke was tired of that, and he was tired of chasing after Percy as if he was his prey. 

"Let me go," the boy fought against him, pushing at Luke's arms violently. Thank God Luke was stronger, and he held Percy by the shoulders as the boy tried to throw him off. He was still crying, and his movements were sloppy. 

"Stop it," Luke hissed, " _Stop_. Let me explain-"

"You explained already," Percy spat. He was flushed and Luke knew he was drunk. That just made him feel more like shit, "I get it, o-okay? You don't want me. So  _let go,_ unless you want to fuck me one last time-"

"That's not...," Luke tried to find the right words, "Christ, Percy I said all those things to protect myself-"

"Shut up," Percy tried to kick him but Luke hauled him into his arms and held Percy against him like a cage. The boy tried to squirm free, hitting Luke with his fists and cursing colourfully. Luke held on, "You fucker,  _let go_!" Percy yelled, but Luke didn't budge. Percy's elbow got him in the ribs and Luke grunted but his grip didn't loosen, "Fuck you! Fuck you!  _Fuck you-_ " Percy finally slumped against Luke, the fight going out of him. He started sobbing helplessly against Luke's shoulders, his arms limp at his sides. Luke exhaled shakily, one of his hands coming up to tangle in Percy's hair and hold the boy against him. The other hand rubbed his back. 

"Shhh," Luke whispered and blinked away his own tears, "Don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I-I...," Percy tried to breathe properly but everything he said sounded shaky. Another sob ripped from his throat, "I'm s-sorry...that I'm not e-enough, that-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Luke growled. He pulled away enough so he could rest his forhead against Percy's. The boy wouldn't look at him, his eyes on the floor. A tear rolled down his cheek and Luke leaned forward and kissed it away, "You  _are_ enough," Luke whispered, "You're more than enough. You're everything I could ever want."

"T-Then why?" Percy finally looked at Luke and his blue eyes were watery and hazy, but no less beautiful. God, he was so fucking beautiful, and Luke wanted to have him forever. 

"I'm not...good," Luke whispered, "For you. For anyone. I've got nightmares, and I'm all fucked up. You deserve so much better-"

"No," Percy whimpered and gripped Luke's face as if he was scared the man would disappear, "I don't want...I-I just...I love you," he said helplessly. Luke's heart broke and he tightened his arms around Percy. Here he was, faced with a decision that could either fuck up the rest of his life, or fix what was left of it. He kissed Percy softly with trembling lips. He didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be without Percy. And then it hit Luke that he didn't care what would happen tomorrow, or the day after, or next week or month or year. So yeah, maybe Percy would fall out of love with him, or maybe he'd realise that he never loved Luke in the first place, but for now it didn't matter.

"I'm so sorry. Percy I'm sorry," Luke kissed Percy violently, "I love you," he murmured, pressing his and Percy's foreheads together again. The boy looked at him with wide eyes and Luke smiled, "And I'll tell you it tomorrow, when you're sober, and the day after, and I'll tell it to you as long as you want me to."

"Is forever alright?" Percy mumbled, a small smile appearing on his face. Luke's heart twisted, but this time it wasn't painful. He closed his eyes, feeling Percy close and exhaled shakily, 

"Forever's perfect."


	13. Act 3, Scene 1

**ACT 3 - OCTAVIAN and MICHAEL**

**"THE PHONE BOOK"**

__

_a_ _pub. The light is dim, the corners shadowed in darkness. Several young people sit at the counter. One of them is a beautiful, exotic girl with a feather in her hair. She is drinking whiskey, with no chaser. Next to her sits a hyper-active, barely legal Latino boy, finishing his third shot of tequila, no lime, no salt. They both smell like coffee. The barman is a muscular, tall, scary-looking man who is dishing drinks out to the friends in front of him like it's a corner shop. But despite smiling at the jokes of the Latino tequila drinker, his eyes are on the corner of the bar, where a blonde, sickly-looking boy drinks alone._

_His story starts earlier than this random evening in autumn. His story starts way back._

**OCTAVIAN**

He was an asshole. Everyone knew it - his parents, his sisters, the kids at school, fuck even Octavian himself knew it. He was one of those posh boys that liked to flaunt their privilege in others people's faces, he wore pricey clothes that his parents paid for and acted like he was better than everyone. He _believed_ he was better than everyone. When Octavian was sixteen he was attending a private school in London. It was one of the best ones and Octavian was mid-way through his GCSE's, on his way to the best college and then university (naturally paid by his parents) and then work at his father's law firm. Octavian had his whole life already paved out for him, he never went hungry or cold, he was always richly dressed and had everything he wanted. He was a bully, especially picking on the scholarship students, calling them all kinds of horrible names.

Octavian didn't believe in karma until the night of June 27th 2014. 

He was bad, but he didn't deserve what he got. At least he believed that at the beginning. Later on, when everyone turned against him, saying things like  _you provoked him_ and  _it was your own fault for going out so late,_ Octavian started to doubt it. Maybe he did deserve it after-all, maybe every little bad thing he did in his life piled up and ended in that horrible event on that sweaty, sticky night in the back of an alleyway. 

He lost his voice. They didn't steal it, they didn't take it, he just lost it. It left him along with his pride and whatever innocence he had left. At first Octavian  _decided_ not to talk, not to answer his parent's, and later the police's, questions. And when he was ready to talk, he found he couldn't. He also found that he couldn't eat or smile, or enjoy life anymore. All he could really do was cry and sleep. He liked that, sleeping, it helped him forget things. At first his parents tried to get him to go back to his life before. They forced him to go to school but Octavian had a panic attack every time someone as much as brushed against him in the hallway, so eventually they pulled him out. They sent him to support group, but he couldn't even speak -  _wouldn't_ speak - so that didn't work out either.

 _They_ got away without a sentence.  _Not enough evidence,_ the judge said. They didn't know who to convict, didn't know who to blame, so they just blamed Octavian. His parents made it clear that he was never to speak of it, that he was meant to move on as if June 27th never happened, as if in 2014 the month skipped a day. Octavian wished that was true. His parents tried to be kind to him at the beginning, but eventually his mother got tired of trying to force him to eat and his father couldn't look at him wasting away in his bed. They shouted at him, saying that it was his fault, and that he should just get over it. 

The day he turned eighteen they drove him to his new, beautiful, expensive apartment in central London and with bright smiles on their faces told him that it was his new home, and that they would pay for everything, and take care of everything, that he should just relax and enjoy life. And they left him there. They didn't want him around anymore, didn't want to look at him, and Octavian accepted that. He couldn't look at himself either. He broke all the mirrors in his new apartment and submitted to the fact that although his prison was all posh and pretty, it was still a fucking prison. 

*** 

Octavian didn't like going out. He got bad anxiety, especially when the streets were crowded, and the streets were  _always_ crowded in central. His parents knew that and yet they chose to leave him there. Octavian was scared that he'd have a panic attack in the middle of the road and he'd get hit by a car. Not that that would be so bad. He tried to step under the wheels a few times, but his instincts were too strong, and every time he would flinch back, just inches away from the speeding vehicle. He tried other things as well, sleeping pills, lots of them, but he was already addicted to all types of anti-depressants and anxiety meds so they didn't do much. They just made his head feel groggier than usual. Octavian hated blood, there had been so much of it that night, so he didn't even think about slitting his wrists. He didn't want to hang either, because that would hurt and Octavian had already hurt too much. 

Those thoughts came only after his family left him. Octavian didn't realise how much he depended on them, on just their presence, and when he found himself alone he was terrified. He just wanted it to end. He hated being alone but he had nobody to turn to, because everyone scared him. He decided to just jump off his apartment building. It was tall enough that he'd definitely die, and he'd never have to see the blood. Octavian thought it would feel nice - to be free one last time. But every time he climbed to the roof (he stole the janitor's key and made a copy) he'd just freak out, and eventually climb back down. Eventually he just circled a random date on his calendar - 17th of December. That would be his suicide day. It felt better knowing that he didn't have to worry about ending it until that day. But until then Octavian had a few weeks and a whole load of shopping to do. 

When the boy stepped out onto the street it was a very early, crisp autumn morning. The shine reflected off of the floor to ceiling windows of the high risers surrounding him. It was a Wednesday so the streets weren't  _too_ packed but when Octavian saw the few busy-bodies shuffling past his hands still began to sweat anyway. He wrapped the scarf tighter around his neck and bowed his head, avoiding eye contact. There was a small corner shop close by, and Octavian could stock up there. He hated big supermarkets. 

 _Just do this,_ Octavian told himself,  _just do the stupid shopping and then you can go back to the apartment and not go out for another week or so._ With that in mind, Octavian strode forward. He found that if he looked down at his feet and counted his steps, he didn't get so freaked out. Especially if he didn't see any of the men walking past. They scared him the most, no matter if they were in hoodies or business suits. Octavian tried very hard not to touch anyone, and whenever someone passed too close to him he'd flinch. He tried to concentrate on his counting and the traffic rumbling to his left, while his heart beat uneasily in his chest. 

Someone barged into him when Octavian was on his two-hundred-and-twelfth step. The guy's shoulder slammed into Octavian's so the skinny boy stumbled back. He accidentally met the eyes of the guy, who was a lot bigger than him... _just like them_. The guy was glaring and fear gripped Octavian's throat so hard that he couldn't breathe. 

"Move, fam," the guy growled and shoved past Octavian. The blonde tried to stop his heart from hammering but he couldn't. His shoulder ached, fear pooled in his stomach, his vision was blurry. He felt a panic attack coming on. The guy had just touched him so violently, and unexpectedly that it freaked Octavian the fuck out. It hit too close to home. The boy leaned against the railing separating the street from the pavement and sternly told himself that he was not panicking _here._

"You okay?" another guy stopped in front of him, this one in a suit with a bag in his hand. Octavian tried to move away from the guy's extended hand but the railing blocked him, so the man placed his hand on the shoulder that the other guy had just barged into. Octavian sucked in a terrified breath and broke away from the railing, and the man. He didn't know where he was going, he just stumbled forward blindly. A big building hugged a corner of a small, looped street. Some part of Octavian's brain that wasn't busy panicking and replaying the events of June 27th told him that he should go to a bathroom, where nobody could see him. 

Octavian stumbled inside the building. It was warm, but that didn't help. What  _did_ help was the fact that the place - which turned out to be a pub - was empty. The chairs were still stacked on the tables, the windows closed. There was nobody behind the bar and Octavian felt his heart beat slowing down ever so slightly. 

"'Scuse me, we're closed," a man appeared from the back. He was in a purple t-shirt and pyjama pants, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He was a  _massive_ guy, a good head and a half taller than Octavian. His arms were thick with muscle, the size of Octavian's thighs. His black hair stuck up in different directions, but despite the fact that he looked like someone who could snap Octavian in half with one hand, he wasn't scary. He radiated warmth, and kindness, but Octavian still shied away from him, his heart in his throat, his stomach tightening. The man frowned, "Are you alright?" he asked, placing the cup on the bar and taking a step towards Octavian.

The blonde backed away so fast his body slammed into the wall. The man flinched and Octavian knew that his eyes must've been full of tears because the man froze and stared at him with big eyes. Octavian was shaking,

"Are you having a panic attack?" the man asked slowly. Octavian didn't reply, just took in a shaky breath that never made it to his lungs. The man turned back towards the door leading to the back, "Silena! Come here!"

A girl appeared the same way the man had come. She was petite, smaller than Octavian, with dark hair and a kind face. The second she saw Octavian, she dropped the cloth in her hands,

"He's having a panic attack."

"Yes, I know," the man said, "He doesn't want me to go near him...I think."

Octavian would have nodded, but his body was paralysed and he couldn't move. Slowly the girl - Silena - came closer. Girls didn't freak Octavian out as much, but he still didn't want her touching him. 

"You need to breathe," she said softly, "in, out, in, out..."

Octavian wanted to tell her to shut up. He knew how to breathe, dammit! He just couldn't do it, his body wouldn't listen to him. Still he followed Silena's movements just to get her to stop talking to him like a child and, surprisingly, he found that his lungs stopped aching and that his heart slowed, and he could breathe again. Maybe not properly, but it was good enough. Silena smiled,

"You okay?"

Octavian didn't reply. Silena frowned and the man from behind her spoke,

"I think he's mute."

Octavian would have argued with that if he could. Silena gave him a look he knew all too well. It was a look full of pity, like _aw poor kid can't talk._ Well, worse things have happened to Octavian than losing his voice. But he still couldn't stand that look, so he found the door with his hand and spilled back outside into the cold morning, his shopping long forgotten. He'd try again tomorrow.

**MICHAEL**

Michael was having a very peaceful morning. It was one of those days that he woke up before noon because Gwen decided she wanted to have morning sex. Mike didn't object to it, because he loved his fiancee, even if their sex was a little bit too vanilla for him. He hated thinking that but lately all the fighting and awkwardness between him and his girl led to tension even in bed, and not the good kind. You'd think that with all the beef they had they'd have some furious, rough sex, but no, it was always the same. It was still nice, but after they finished Gwen just rolled off and went to put on her clothes without a word to Mike. She left for work and in her absence the man had a lazy cigarette in bed. She hated when he did it around her so he often had to smoke out of the window, which was pretty uncomfortable. He contemplated what their relationship had become, and once again in the last month asked himself  _do I really want to marry her?_

When Mike went downstairs he wasn't surprised that Silena was already up and bustling in the kitchen. The opening was about twenty minutes away and when the doors of Olympus  _did_ open, all the workers would swarm in for their scrambled eggs and bacon and beans before they went off to work. 

"Morning," Mike said sleepily.

"Good morning, boss," Silena grinned at him and passed him a cup. The coffee was perfectly made, as usual,

"You're the best, Lennie," Mike sighed happily and leaned against the counter, sipping the deliciously warm, bitter drink.

"I saw Gwen leave," Silena said as she turned on the ovens in the kitchen, "She looked as angry as a bee."

"The sex isn't good lately," Michael sighed. Silena made a face,

"I do  _not_ need to know that, babe," she said, "and there's some tablets if you're having problems...down there," she added suggestively. Michael rolled his eyes,

"It's not that it's just...," he shrugged, "dunno really. Maybe the stress of the whole fiancee thing, we kinda rushed into that."

"Do you not want the wedding?" Silena asked. She could always read Mike easily, since they had known each other most of their lives. Michael still remembered when she was six and he was twelve and they had gone out to the shop to buy sweets. She had had seventeen and he had nineteen, eating her last one. She knew he had it before he even began apologising for it. It was always like that - just Silena's instinct. She knew when he was lying, or when he was unhappy. Mike was just opening his mouth to reply when he heard the front door banging open. He frowned and glanced at the clock,

"Bit early," he said, but walked out of the kitchen anyway, "'scuse me, we're closed." He froze when he saw that the person who had come barrelling into the closed pub. The guy was medium height, which meant he was well shorter than Mike, and really skinny. His hair was so blonde it was almost white, falling into his tear-filled blue eyes. Any other time Mike might've guiltily checked him out because damn he was  _cute._ But the guy looked like he was panicking so Michael refrained. Instead he made a move towards the guy, who looked like he didn't know where he was. Maybe he was high? When the guy saw him move he slammed into the wall in a way that looked painful. Mike took that as a clear sign to stay away. He took in the guy's stance - his trembling body and wide, unfocused eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing hard. Michael put two and two together, "Are you having a panic attack?" 

The guy looked like he wanted to reply, but he didn't. Mike was starting to feel uneasy himself, especially since the boy was gasping for breath as if he was drowning. Mike quickly called Silena and in minutes the girl had calmed the random stranger down enough so he could breathe properly again. The next thing he knew was that the blonde was running back outside as if Michael was the devil chasing him, without looking back. 

The barman was pretty sure he'd never seen him again. 

How wrong he was.


	14. Act 3, Scene 2

** **

**OCTAVIAN**

It took him two more days to come outside again, and by then he was down to pot noodles and leftover ice cream. He knew he couldn't live on that, not that he  _wanted_ to live, but he tried to not think about that until the 17th of December. So on Friday Octavian walked down the stairs leading to the lobby of his apartment block, counting the steps and ignoring the doorman who wished him a good morning. Octavian hated the building - the rich red carpets and the staircase that looked like it led to a ballroom, the lifts and their pleasant little _dings_. It looked more like a hotel than an apartment building.

The streets were exactly the same as usual. There were three hundred and eight steps to the shops.  _Three hundred and eight steps, I can do that,_ Octavian decided. It was early evening, which meant there were more people on the streets than in the morning. Octavian didn't know why he decided to go out then, the dark scared him and it was dangerously close to sundown, but he still came out like an idiot. And he was already eleven steps in, so he just decided to quickly do his shopping and come back as fast as he could, before it got dark and the monsters came out onto the streets. 

Three hundred and eight steps of avoiding people, three hundred and eight steps of keeping his head down, three hundred and eight steps of a frantically beating heart. 

The shop was close to closing, and there were only two people inside it. Octavian made quick work of the shopping - bread, milk, coffee, chicken, just the basics. His parents gave him enough money so he could eat in the best restaurants every day if he wanted, but Octavian still bought just the essential, cheapest food. His biggest treat was the ice cream he sometimes got. He didn't care about what he ate, he was scheduled to die soon anyway. The whole ordeal in the shop lasted three minutes and eighteen seconds and Octavian didn't meet the eyes of the shopkeeper as he pressed the money down on the counter with trembling hands.

The pub was two hundred and seventeen steps away from the shop. Octavian's plastic bag full of shopping slapped against his leg as he suddenly stopped right outside it, remembering the panic attack he had a few days ago. The streets were quickly deserting, the sun was sinking below the buildings, and yet the boy still stopped. He looked at the looming pub, with its warm golden windows radiating light.  _Olympus._ Octavian hesitated, his fingers clenching on the bag.  _You need to go. You need to get home._ His mind told him sternly, but Octavian still found himself walking forward, almost like in a dream, and pushing the door open. 

The warmth wrapped around him again, but this time it didn't feel like it was suffocating Octavian. There were some men in one corner, laughing loudly and Octavian shied away from them immediately, his heart skipping a beat. He saw the barman in the bow-tie from before talking to a girl - not Silena - behind the bar, smiling at her, and Octavian ducked his head so he didn't see him. With his heart pounding he slid into a booth by the window, trying to calm his body. He glanced over at the man, but he didn't seem to notice that Octavian was there. But Octavian was an idiot and he was staring so hard that the man eventually noticed because he finally looked up. He looked surprised to see Octavian, and ever so slowly he smiled invitingly at the boy, and Octavian's heart skipped a beat again, and then another one, and then it was pounding even harder. That's when a whole load of really loud people spilled inside the pub. 

They were all shouting over each other and laughing as they hugged the barman over the bar and ordered their drinks. Out of the corner of his eye, Octavian notes what everyone's drinking. A brunette girl, the only one there, has whiskey. A boy with curly hair has tequila. One of he boys had a juice. Another boy came running in, his eyes wide, screaming that he's being chased. Octavian feels a pang and he has to look away to gather himself and swallow the bile in his throat. When he looked up again, the barman was looking right at him. Octavian couldn't breathe for a second. The guy's gaze was _intense_. When the man looked away Octavian quickly scrambled to his feet and left hastily, and thank God it wasn't dark yet. 

**MICHAEL**

A week later on Wednesday Michael saw the boy again. It was early evening, only a pair of old ladies sitting in the corner and finishing their tea, when he came in. He reminded Mike a bit of a moth, with his white-blonde hair and over-sized grey sweater and nervous movements. Mike was busy wiping glasses and replaying the argument he had with Gwen earlier in his head when he noticed the newcomer. The boy looked half like he wanted to run back out, especially when he met Mike's gaze.

"Can I get you anything?" Mike called with a smile that he hoped wasn't intimidating. The boy intrigued him, and for some reason Mike didn't want him to go. Also because he was a bit worried that something was wrong with him...he didn't exactly look stable. The blonde looked at Mike and then looked away, and then looked back at him as if he didn't know where to rest his eyes. The two ladies in the corner stared at him and Mike saw his cheeks redden. He finally made up his mind and came nervously to the counter. He didn't sit down, keeping the bar between him and Mike, as if he was scared of him, "What can I get you?" Michael asked again. The guy was nervously picking at a loose thread of his sleeve, "Um...I can give you a moment to think about what you want?" Mike offered, sensing that he was making the boy uncomfortable. The boy didn't even look at him so Mike backed away and disappeared into the kitchen, where Reyna was finishing up her shift. Food was done, the only thing people would come in for now would be drinks. 

"I'm going now," Reyna informed him, wiping down the counter, "unless you need me."

"Nah, it's calm," Mike told her. He bit at his thumb and Reyna raised her eyebrow,

"Did something happen?"

"The guy...you know, the one I told you about? The blonde with the panic attack?" Reyna nodded slowly, "He's at the bar."

Before Michael could stop her, Reyna dashed to the door and peered outside, her eyes as bright as a cat's at night. Mike pulled her back,

"He's pretty cute," Reyna admitted, "Though Will was right, he looks a bit sick."

"I have a  _finacee_ ," Mike hissed. Reyna gave him a weird look and Mike's shoulders slumped,

"Silena told you?"

"I'm sure you and Gwen will work it out," Reyna tried to smile but it came as a grimace. She kissed Mike's cheek, "Now go back out there and do your damn job, boss."

Michael felt weirdly nervous when he stood in front of the blonde again. Over his years as a barman he met all sorts of people, drunks mostly, but also girls who threw themselves at him or guys who picked fights with him. None of them made him nervous, but this skinny blonde kid did.

"Did you decide what you want?" Michael asked, keeping his distance. The boy looked at Mike with big eyes. His eyelashes were almost white too, framing his beautiful pale blue eyes. The look of fear seemed to permanently be plastered onto his face. With a shaky pale hand the boy pointed to the drink of the night, "Um...do you want a Bloody Mary?" Mike asked. The blonde boy looked away, and nodded ever so slightly. Mike frowned.  _Shit he can't speak,_ the thought made him freeze for a moment, then he quickly collected himself. He remembered something Nico told him a few months ago -  _people hate to be pitied -_ so Michael cleared his throat, "Sorry I'm going to have to see your ID."

The blonde gave him a bewildered look, something between disbelief and shock and then quickly shook his head. Mike could normally judge how old someone was, but with this one he was lost - the blonde could have been fifteen or twenty one, Michael didn't know. The boy rummaged in his pocket and slammed his ID on the counter, quickly withdrawing his hand as if he was scared Michael would touch him. When Mike took the ID, he scooted as far away as his stool would let him. Michael didn't know why he was so skittish. He looked at the ID.

In the photo, the boy looked completely different. For one, he didn't look so sickly, his hair and skin not as pale. He was looking at the camera as if challenging it, a confident, snobby look in his eyes. He looked completely different from the boy sitting in front of Mike now, looking down at his shoes. His name was Octavian August, and he was eighteen. Just a kid, but Octavian still quickly turned away and began preparing the drink, before he stared at the ID for too long and made it weird. He normally would try to make conversation with his clients, but the boy clearly wasn't about to talk and so Mike didn't push it. 

"Here you go," he carefully set the drink in front of Octavian. The boy eyed him wearily and then pulled out a tenner, putting it next to his glass. Mike took it and opened the cash register to give Octavian the change, but the boy just grabbed his drink and speed-walked to a table in the corner, where he sat in the shadows and nervously sipped on his drink. Michael kind of wanted to call an ambulance to make sure that Octavian wasn't on drugs, but he decided to leave it when the three tattoo artists from Half Blood came in, grinning like idiots.

"Michael!"

"Mike!"

"Buddy!" 

Beckendorf, Will and Jason plopped down at the counter, grinning at Mike like over-excited puppies. Michael just rolled his eyes at them and set to preparing their drinks before they even ordered, listening to their stupid chatter at his back,

"Mike someone came to get a lover's name tattooed on their back  _again,_ " Will whined, "Those are the dumbest tattoos  _ever."_

"Maybe you should get Gwen tattooed on your chest," Beckendorf joked as Mike mixed their drinks. 

"Maybe you should get Silena," Mike fired back. Beckendorf went beet red and Jason and Will hooted with laughter. Mike grinned and his eyes sweeped the pub. The three friends and Octavian were the only people there, the old women who came in earlier had cleared out. Mike wondered if Octavian was waiting for someone as he glanced at the boy in the shadows. 

"Hey guys, wanna hear a joke?" Will asked suddenly, his golden hair glinting in the dim light. 

"Not really," Mike said, knowing full well that Will was going to say the joke anyway. The blonde grinned and cracked his knuckles, ignoring the protests of his friends. 

"What's the difference between a dirty bus-stop and a lobster with breast implants?" he asked excitedly. Michael groaned but Will didn't wait for a reply, "One's a crusty bus station and the other is a busty crustacean."

Michael snorted at how stupid the joke was and Beckendorf face-palmed, "Do us all a favour and kill yourself."

Will grinned at him brightly while Jason stared down at his whiskey like he wanted to drown in it, 

"I think Nico knows I like him," he mumbled, making it clear he hadn't been paying to the conversation. Mike reached for another glass to clean and raised an eyebrow as Beckendorf downed the rest of his drink, 

"Like?" Mike remembered the way Jason looked at Nico the last time they were here together. It was so sweet it was sickening, "Mate, what you feel for him has passed 'like' long ago," he couldn't help but look over at Octavian. The blonde had finished his drink, but was still holding his glass, his pale eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. 

"Is he underage?" Jason startled him and Mike realised that both he and Will had followed his gaze and were now also looking at Octavian too.

"Nah," Mike said quietly, "Eighteen. Saw his ID. He comes here all the time." By 'all the time' Mike meant that he came here twice. But twice was enough. 

"Never seen him," Will was evaluating Octavian like he was a patient at the hospital, "He looks...unwell." 

"Okay Nurse Solace quit staring," Beckendorf rolled his eyes. He was the only one not looking and Mike quickly dropped his gaze, realising that Octavian probably knew that they were studying him like a museum exhibit. He reached underneath the counter and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, re-filling up Will's and Beckendorf's glasses. 

"Cheers mate," Beckendorf downed his drink again but Will just shook his head,

"This one's the last one for me," he said, "Alcohol isn't healthy."

The door opened and Piper from God's Corner strolled in, her hair pulled into two messy braids. She grinned at her friends,

"Hey guys," she sat down next to Will, "Whiskey please, Mike."

Michael rolled his eyes, "What's with you lot and drinking in the middle of the week?"

"Don't complain, you barely get clients at this time anyway," Piper stated. She had a point, but Mike still shrugged,

"It's not like you guys pay or anything," he said, and it was true. It was a weird agreement on Argo Street - nobody had to pay at any of the other locals as long as they kept everything for the street's workers on the house too. Mike probably got the worst end of the deal since he was the one losing the most money, paying for his friends' alcoholic issues out of his own pocket. Not that he minded really, he made enough money to make ends meet so treating his friends was nice.

"Yeah but your coffee's on the house too," Piper was smiling like the devil, reminding Mike why she was one of his best friend's. She didn't look like much, but she could be trouble if she wanted to. 

"And tattoos," Beckendorf interjected, "if you ever want another one."

"Yeah but I get coffee like once every two weeks," Mike slapped the cloth he used to wipe glasses with over his shoulder and glared playfully at his friends, "and I have one tattoo. You guys are here all the time. Do you know how much you cost me?! I'm gonna go bankrupt..."

"This whiskey," Beck held up his glass, which was empty again, "Costs like a twentieth of what your tattoo cost. You owe us a debt."

"Give me that glass before you break it," Mike sighed and took the glass so he could re-fill it. Jason smiled, "and that tattoo does  _not_ cost that much." 

Mike was referring to the dove tattoo he had on his bicep that he got three years ago when he was twenty two and Half Blood had  _just_ opened. 

"Damn, this is strong," Piper made a face as she sipped on the whiskey. Jason looked lost in thought,

"That's 'cause you just drink coffee all day," Beckendorf said.

"That's not true!" Piper complained, "Did you guys hear about Leo's escapades? He met some woman online and now he spends half his time at her house, helping her out-"

"I think he told me about it," Will pondered, "Apparently it's a really weird relationship."

"Like a sugar mommy?" Beckendorf pulled a face.

"No, actually I think he has a thing for her grandson," Piper said.

"You're his roommate why don't you just ask?!"

Mike loved his friends, he really did, but it was late and his head hurt and Gwen would be back soon. He just didn't have the strength for their gossip. 

"Okay," he sighed, "it's late. I've gotta close up and call it a day."

"I just got here!" Piper protested. Mike took their glasses and chanced a look at Octavian only to feel his heart twist. The boy was gone as if he was a ghost, and Mike didn't understand why he felt so weird about the fact that he didn't see him leave. He didn't even know the kid. 

"Mike you okay?" Jason must've picked up on his weird change of emotion. Mike wasn't about to play support group so he cleared his throat and looked away,

"Fine. Just tired. So get out," he joked. He reached back under the bar and took out the whiskey bottle his friends didn't finish. He passed it into Piper's hands, "Here. Go drink at home you hippie alcoholic."

"Oh, Leo will be stoked," Piper said cheerfully. She leaned across the bar and kissed Mike on the cheek, "Night Mikey, see ya tomorrow guys!" and with that she was gone.

"Hey! We live in the same block!" Beckendorf yelled and ran after her. 

"See you tomorrow Mike!" Will said, and Jason waved. Michael waved back and he couldn't help his sigh of relief when he was alone. God, he really needed to rest. Lately he was constantly tired, and the fighting with Gwen wasn't helping. A silence filled the bar, one that Mike didn't like. He sighed and did his rounds, pulling up chairs and stacking them neatly on the tables. He wiped down the counter, put away the bottles of alcohol and locked up. Rubbing the bridge of his nose to fight the oncoming headache, Michael climbed up the backstairs that led to the flat he had above the pub. 

He let himself in and checked the time - it was just past ten, a bit early for Mike to close up and a bit late for Gwen to come in. She was usually home for nine. The man sighed and dialled her number as he slipped a cigarette from his packet. Gwen's voicemail clicked on.  _Hi! It's Gwen sorry to-_ Mike hung up, frustrated, and lit his cig. He opened the window in the bedroom and took a drag, exhaling with relief. He already felt better. The smoke drifted a bit into the night sky and then dispersed. Mike was maybe halfway through the fag when he noticed something that wasn't right on Argo Street. Usually at this time the whole street, and the main street too, were dark save for the Tattoo Parlour, blinking neon at the darkness. In its unfocused light, Mike saw a figure huddled up against one of the walls. For a second he thought it could have been the Lone Wolf, but the hair was too pale...

Mike chucked the unfinished cigarette out of the window, something he never did, and pounded downstairs. He didn't even know why, but he unlocked the door and walked out onto the street. It was fucking cold. Like _shit winter's here_ cold, and Michael was just in his shirt and bow-tie from earlier. But right then he didn't care. Octavian was sitting against the wall of the tattoo parlour, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head buried in his arms.

**OCTAVIAN**

He didn't even know why he went to that pub  _again._ Maybe because somehow the presence of the barman was comforting in a way. Sure he was big and scary-looking, which usually was enough to give Octavian heart palpitations. And yet he was always kind and soft, and friendly and open and  _warm._ The atmosphere in the pub made Octavian feel like he was wrapped up in the arms of a mother (not his mother - she hadn't held him since he was a baby), all safe. His name was Mike, Michael, that's what his friends called him. Octavian was too scared to go near him though, because he couldn't even have a conversation with him. So what was the point? Instead he drank whatever was the drink of the day, always just one, and then dragged himself home after watching Michael out of the corner of his eyes. He supposed it was creepy. 

The second time when Octavian went outside it was pitch black. He swore internally, forgetting how fast it got dark in winter. The streets were deserted, and somehow that was worse than when they were packed. The boy's first instinct was to press himself against the closest wall, but people were going to be leaving soon and he didn't want to be seen. The boy made it as far as the main street, but then he just  _couldn't._ In the dark all London roads looked similar and he just remembered that night in June, when everything fucked up. It was dark, and cold, and Octavian was  _scared._

He tried to calm the hammering of his heart and the swimming in his head but with every second of staring at the streets in the glow from the lamps, filled him with more unease. He wanted to run, but the apartment was too far away, ninety-one steps to be precise, which in theory wasn't long but in practice was forever. So many things could happen in ninety-one steps, _that_ night had happened just a few roads away from his old house. It didn't have to be far, it could be anywhere.

Laughter and voices startled Octavian and he immediately backed into the shadows of what he thought was a tattoo parlour. He saw people spilling from the pub, a boy chasing after a girl with a bottle in her hand, a boy slipping into a cab. Another guy stopped and was joined by a new boy, the one who drank coke the last time, and together they disappeared around the corner. They went in the opposite direction than Octavian lived but he still wouldn't have gone with them. There was two of them. There had been two of them that night aswell. 

_What have we here?_

_Oh, it's one of them private school boys init..._

_Hey! Grab him-_

Pain throbbed in Octavian's head as he took in a shallow breath that bordered on a sob, sliding down the wall into a sitting position. He curled up as small as he could, trying to do anything to forget. He counted to one hundred, but his breathing was still erratic. Octavian was too scared to look up at the street, scared that there were eyes watching him from the darkness. His lungs were starting to ache because they weren't getting enough air. 

"Hey!" the shout rattled his bones. For a second Octavian though he'd faint.

_Hey! Grab him!_

He sat up and his head slammed against the wall behind him, but Octavian barely felt it. He felt a weight lift off of his shoulders when he saw Michael the barman walking across the street. His heart didn't stop pounding, but his breathing slowed down ever so slightly. There was a frown on Michael's forehead, and a worried expression in his eyes. He didn't look at Octavian with pity, thank God,

"Are you okay?" Michael asked, reaching out his hand to Octavian. The boy eyed the hand nervously, and then he decided that he was being given a choice - he could either take the hand or not, nobody would  _force_ him to take the hand if he didn't want to. He didn't want to. Octavian stood up on shaky legs, glancing uneasily at Michael's hand. The man didn't seem to take offence as Octavian leaned against the wall. He didn't know why but he wasn't  _scared,_ even though he had to look _up_ to Michael. Maybe it was vibes, or aura, or whatever bullshit people like Octavian didn't believe in, but whatever it was, something about Michael made Octavian feel relaxed and safe, the way he hadn't felt in years. 

Of course he couldn't tell Michael that. Or anything else for the matter. The man kept a safe distance between him and Octavian and cleared his throat,

"You can't speak can you?" the man asked.

Octavian shook his head every so slowly as his heart beat returned to normal. Suddenly the dark wasn't as scary,

"Are you lost?" Michael asked. Octavian shook his head again. Of course he wasn't lost! What a stupid idea...he knew exactly where his apartment was, exactly ninety one fucking steps away. Michael opened and closed his mouth as if looking for words that he clearly couldn't find. Octavian fought an eyeroll. Clearly he still had some asshole left in him. He didn't know what the fuck Michael wanted - Octavian hadn't had anyone even  _speak_ to him in so long that it felt weird, "Um, can I help you with something then?" Michael asked uncertainly. Octavian liked his voice, it was soothing. He shook his head again. He couldn't ask Michael to walk him to his apartment, that would be too much. When the man left Octavian would just run there and hope for the best.

"Hey," Michael clearly wasn't giving up, "It's dark and kinda late. Do you want me to call you and Uber?"

Octavian shook his head again. God he was gonna get a neck cramp. He pointed behind himself in the general direction of his apartment,

"Oh...you live around here?" Michael clarified, "Why don't I walk you home then? I'd hate for anything to happen to you."

Octavian tensed.  _Too late for that._ Still, he felt relief settle on him. Ninety one steps seemed awfully far, and Michael...well, Michael seemed to make everything feel not as terrifying. Slowly, hesitantly, Octavian nodded. He hated depending on people, especially since he usually had nobody  _to_ depend on. But Michael just beamed at him, as if walking Octavian home was no trouble, 

"Alright, lead the way Octavian," he said. A shock went through the boy when he heard Michael say his name. It sounded so...soft, and kind. It was kind of cringy and disgusting but it still made warmth spread in Octavian's chest as he started walking, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He'd have to take meds when he get home or his heart might not handle all the excitement of the night, "I...err, saw your name on your ID," Michael explained quickly, walking on the other end of the pavement so he wasn't touching Octavian. The boy really appreciated that - not many people understood that he didn't like to be touched. They usually gave him hugs and said things like  _you're so strong._ Octavian wasn't strong. He didn't look at Michael, just stared down at his own feet, 

"I'm Michael by the way, Mike, Kahale," Michael said, almost like he was nervous. Octavian could feel his eyes on him and it made him want to hide. He knew he was a mess (as usual) but he hadn't really cared until he met Michael, "I don't...um, if you want you can come to Olympus more often," Octavian chanced a shy look at Michael. He was blushing and looking right ahead, "Your drinks can be on the house. Like my other...friends. Not that you're my friend! We don't know each other, um...that is...um, we can be...friends, if you want," Michael's eyes met Octavian's. The younger boy felt a tingle of electricity in the tips of his fingers. He nodded gently as his heart did a little dance in his chest. He didn't want friends, or have them, since June 27th, 2014. It felt weird though, foreign, and not completely unpleasant, knowing someone wanted to see him again. 

Octavian stopped in the familiar building that held his apartment on one of the top floors. The doorman stood outside, straight as a string as if anyone could see him at this time. Michael gaped at the building,

"You live  _here_?" he managed. Octavian shrugged and flushed. He hated the place, hated how flashy it was. He didn't need that kind of thing, not anymore, but his parents insisted. Michael cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, "Right I should probably go," he gave Octavian a shy smile, "See you around...maybe. Hopefully?"

Octavian nodded. Michael smiled, waved, and jogged off and Octavian's heart clenched. He found himself making a weird sound, like a cough as for the first time in years he tried to say something. He wanted to say  _thank you,_ but then he remembered that his voice had been stolen. The boy touched his throat and trembled. God, he hated himself. 

He turned to his building and realised another thing. For the first time since he started living alone he hadn't counted the steps home.


	15. Act 3, Scene 3

** **

**MICHAEL**

"Where were you?"

Gwen didn't sound angry, or annoyed, or even interested. She was sitting on her and Mike's bed, glasses perched ontop of her nose, typing something on her laptop. Even when she got home she didn't stop working. Mike felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders. He didn't know how to describe it, but he felt it every time he was around Gwen, like everything was wrong and he was making a mistake being with her. Michael just prayed that the feeling disappeared by itself before the wedding. 

"Long story," Mike didn't feel like explaining to her. She probably wouldn't listen anyway, just muttering  _mhmm_ and  _oh_ ever so often to give the illusion that she was paying attention. Gwen didn't push, she probably hadn't even heard her fiancee's reply. Mike felt like screaming. He was so tired of the coldness between him and his girl, and he desperately tried to think of something to say that would start a conversation. He couldn't think of anything. It was like they were strangers.

Gwen closed the laptop and stood up, "I'm going to take a shower," she informed Mike. His mouth stretched into a smirk,

"Can I join?" he asked. Gwen didn't even look at him,

"I'm not feeling it today," she informed him. Mike frowned - she hadn't been feeling it for  _days,_ and when they did have sex it felt a bit like eating stale bread. Michael didn't even know why he was pushing it, maybe he was just desperate to try and save his relationship, if it could even be saved.

"How was your day?" Mike asked as Gwen picked out her pajamas. She shrugged,

"Normal."

"Did anything interesting happen?" Michael prodded. Gwen just shrugged and Michael couldn't fight his groan, "Christ will you  _talk to me_?"

"What do you want to talk about, Mike?" Gwen snapped, "I'm  _tired_."

"I'm your fiancee and you won't even have a five minute conversation with me!" Michael yelled. And they were back on the familiar track of throwing around excuses and accusations. Gwen would yell that she worked hard and wanted to focus on her career, and that Mike wanted too much from her, and in turn Michael would shout that she acted like they were roommates, and not two people in love. By the end they'd both had a headache and Mike would go sleep on the couch in the living room because he couldn't stand being close to her. 

***

Gwen was gone in the morning, and Michael hated that he felt relieved.  _Maybe it's time to end it,_ he mused as he stared at himself in the mirror. He was unshaved, his hair sticking up everywhere, but he had no strength to fix up. He pulled out a cigarette from his packet,  _Maybe Reyna and Silena are wrong, and we won't figure it out._ Mike felt like he was the only one fighting for his and Gwen's relationship, that she had given up on it long ago. Maybe it was time for Mike to let it go too, instead of holding onto it like a drowning man holding onto a rope. 

And then there were the dreams. Mike pushed open the window and lit the fag, trying to piece together the weird nightmarish visions he had which had made him wake up at the ungodly hour of seven in the damn morning. Whenever he slept on the couch (which was almost always lately) he'd get bad dreams. Or maybe not so bad, just weird and confusing.

_In his dream he stood on a hill overlooking what looked like a summer camp, with a whole load of cabins put together in a U shape, like Argo Street. There was a tree on one side of Mike, a tall, beautiful one with a dragon coiled around it and a golden shimmering cloth hanging from the branches. Michael was in his favourite purple t-shirt and mismatched pieces of armour. A tall-ass statue threw a shadow over the hill and when Michael turned he saw that Octavian was there too. The boy was holding onto a rope that was attached to a weird looking catapult, dressed in old fashioned robes._

_"Octavian?" Michael asked, confused. His movements felt sluggish, like he had no control of his body._

_"Guard me," Octavian said, his voice soft and hoarse as if he hadn't used it in a long time. Michael didn't know why but he drew a sword out of thin air and turned so his back was to Octavian. An army was charging at them, monsters, massive beasts and men with ten hands and giants. Mike wasn't scared, his sword glinted in the sun. Behind him he heard an explosion and he was thrown to the ground, the ground shaking. When he turned around there was smoke in the air, and Octavian was gone._

Michael shook his head as he looked out on Argo Street in the dim light of the morning, his smoke mixing with the mist outside the window. All the shops were closed for now, but Mike knew that Silena was probably downstairs, opening up and preparing for the customers that would come for breakfast. Michael smoked and pondered his weird dream. He didn't know why Octavian featured in it, or why the hell they were dressed like Romans, but he didn't really care. To him dreams didn't have a deeper meaning anyway. 

Movement caught Mike's eye as he put his cigarette out. Down on the street he saw a head full of messy, black hair, heading in the general direction of the florists. 

"Nico!" Michael grinned, shoving his head out of the window and waving. Nico looked up, surprised. Michael wasn't as close with him as with Piper or Beckendorf, but he liked Nico, and he was part of the Argo family so Michael called - "Gimme a sec, I'll come down!" he slid from the window, pulled on some socks over his bare feet and pounded downstairs. Delicious smells filtered in from the kitchen,

"Morning, Silena!" Michael yelled, on his way to the door.

"Morning, boss!" Silena's voice was muffled. Michael took the key off the hook next to the door and unlocked it. Nico stood outside, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his eyes sleepy. Mike grinned and moved to the side to let the kid in, leading him to one of the tables in the corner where they both collapsed, yawning, 

"Why are you up so early?" Nico asked. Mike was glad to be back down in the pub, he sometimes felt that it was more of a home than his flat upstairs, especially after his dreams. God, Michael hated being alone after those, they always creeped him out a bit so he was glad that Nico was there.

"Weird dreams," Michael shrugged and rested his face in his hands. He didn't really feel like explaining any more than that, because what would he say? _Have you noticed that random blonde kid that sometimes comes 'round? I walked him home last night and then proceeded to have weird dreams about him, not creepy at all right?_ Instead Mike said, "You hungry? Breakfast's on the house."

"I...," Nico hesitated. He looked painfully skinny, almost as thin as Octavian, and Mike remembered someone mentioning that Drew and Kelli were being bigger bitches than usual to the boy, not letting him out to lunch, "Actually...Sure. Thanks."

"In exchange you'll need to make me a nice bouquet sometime," Mike said. He used to do that for Gwen, after the arguments, bring her flowers even if she was in the wrong. But now there were too many arguments and not enough roses, and when Michael thought of buying a bouquet he thought of giving it to someone else. To a blonde someone else.

"Is it for Gwen?" Nico asked, suddenly interested. Mike just smiled and tried to hide the fact that his body tensed,

"None of your business, Pinocchio," he said quickly, not wanting to accidentally say something that might get back to Gwen. Instead he dialled Silena's number as fast as he could and the second she picked up he was already blabbering away, "Lena! Babe..."

" _You're calling again-"_

"Yeah...," Mike had a tendency to do that. He was too lazy sometimes to go the few steps to the kitchen, "full English-"

" _Make your own breakfast!"_ Silena protested. 

"Nico's here-" before Mike could finish the girl hanged up. Michael scowled at the phone but Silena was already walking out of the kitchen, her hands on her hips,

"Really Mike?" she shook her head, making her braids swivel around her head, "I'm just in the kitchen, you don't have to call me," she kissed the top of Nico's head, the way she always did to everyone, "Hey babes." 

"Hey, Lennie," Nico smiled at her but Michael could see that the smile was strained, and he was pretty sure that Silena, with her motherly instincts, noticed too. 

"Is Charlie here by any chance?" Silena blushed slightly. Lately Mike noticed that lately the Tattoo artist was in the pub more often than not, and that he spent a ridiculous amount of time with Silena. Of course, she was a legal adult and could do what she wanted but Michael still felt over-protective over her, like over a sister, so his eyes narrowed,

"Nah," he fought a yawn and stretched his arms over his head, feeling his joints pop, "but he'll be here for drinks on Friday. Why don't you pop 'round then?" Michael wanted to keep an eye on the two, and make sure Beckendorf was as serious about Lena as she was about him. 

"I don't drink," Silena said, as if Mike was stupid, "You know that."

"Nico doesn't drink either," Michael said, remembering that the boy always ordered juice or coke, "but he's coming anyway. Right, Neeks?" he turned to the Italian. He knew it was a bit of blackmail, but Mike was honestly fucking tired of everyone walking around everyone else on eggshells. If he had to go back to good old high-school ways and shove Nico and Jason into a closet than he was more than happy to do it. He was pretty sure there was no other way for those two blind idiots to confess their feelings to each other. He'd make sure Beckendorf and Silena didn't go anywhere near closets though. 

"Yeah," Nico agreed shyly, "Sure."

"Great," Silena sighed with relief, "I'd hate to be alone among you loose alcoholics. And we can discuss the Christmas party!"

"Sure," Mike waved her off. With all the shit with Gwen and Octavian he had completely forgotten that Christmas was less than a month away, and in all fairness Mike was _not_ looking forward to that. Gwen's family was...overbearing at best, and Mike would probably keep the pub open to avoid seeing them. Just an excuse for another argument. The man shook his head and turned to Silena, "now make the man some breakfast. Someone needs to feed him."

**OCTAVIAN**

Octavian was never obsessive or compulsive, he got bored quickly and if he couldn't get something he wanted (which didn't happen often), he'd just move onto bigger, better things. Or at least that's what it used to be like. Octavian dropped friends and family as fast as he picked them up, and yet he had become so touch starved and lonely that the smallest bit of warmth and kindness shown to him flipped his world upside down.

And that's why he was staring at the heavy address book open on his lap, thinking  _what the fuck are you doing?_ and staring at one particular number. OLYMPUS PUB, ARGO STREET 1, OWNER - MICHAEL KAHALE, +44 7870 901248. Octavian must've stared at the number for ages because he felt like a fossil. He didn't know why but eventually he put the number into his expensive IPhone that he never used, and dialled. Maybe he took a bit too many of his meds, because his mind wasn't catching up with his actions fast enough. Too late Octavian realised that there was no point him calling since he couldn't  _speak._ And what was he meant to say anyway?! He froze.

" _Olympus pub,_ " Michael's voice sent a spark of warmth down Octavian's spine. His heart thrummed like an arrow in his chest and yet he couldn't bring himself to hang up, " _Hello?"_ Michael asked impatiently.  _Hang up, hang up, hang up,_ Octavian instructed his body but it wouldn't listen to him. There was a pause on the other side as Octavian breathed unevenly into the receiver, " _Octavian?"_

The phone slipped from the boy's grasp and he slammed the red button as fast as he could, his heart pounding. He stared at the blank wall with wide eyes, trying to understand how the fuck Michael knew it was him. What if he thought that Octavian was some weird creep that would start stalking him and calling only to breathe down the phone?! Octavian  _wanted_ to say something but he literally couldn't, and now he felt like an absolute fucking idiot. His stomach jumped to his throat when his phone buzzed suddenly. Octavian had to steady his hands and gather his mind before his trembling fingers finally unlocked the wretched thing, showing that he had a new message from an unsaved number. Octavian gulped nervously,

 _+44 7870 901248: Is this Octavian?  
_                                _Shit sorry if it's not..._

Octavian stared at the two messages until his eyes started to water and he had to blink. He had the option of playing the whole thing off, or never showing his damn face on the streets again. What was he trying to do anyway?! He had less than a month until his suicide day, and here he was trying to make new friends...He didn't know why he replied, but that was nothing new. Nowadays he never knew why he did things.

 _You: It is.  
_         _Sorry._

He really didn't know what else to say, but his phone buzzed almost immediately in his hand. 

_+44 7870 901248: No worries ;) Where the hell did u find my number anyways?_

_You: Address book? SOrry I know it's weird._

_+44 7870 901248: Haha u know most ppl just ask for my number_

_You: Couldn't exactly 'ask' could I?_

Octavian didn't really text. Like ever. Only to let his parents know he was still alive every once in a while. He knew he was awkward and was probably making Michael uncomfortable, but the man was implying that Octavian _wanted his number,_ as if Octavian liked him or something! Of course he didn't... Christ what was he thinking?! Octavian almost threw the phone across the room and went back to pretending to be a mole, burrowed in his covers, but then Michael replied.

 _+44 7870 901248: Yeah I noticed  
_                                _You couldve wrote on a napkin XD_

_You: Didn't think of that brilliant idea, I'll remember it next time -_-_

_+44 7870 901248: ooooh someones sarcastic ;P Anyways glad you got the number_

Octavian's heart skipped a beat. Why was Michael  _glad?_ Didn't he think Octavian was weird? The boy bit his lip and then saved Michael's number in his contacts before his anxiety caught up with him and he deleted the messages. He spent a few minutes trying to figure out what to save him as.  _Michael Kahale_ sounded too posh but  _Mike_ was too casual, so eventually Octavian settled for _Michael_. 

 _Michael: youve gone quiet_  
              _shit wait ur not meant to double text are u??_  
_oops_

Octavian couldn't stop the smile blooming on his face, mostly because Michael was acting like he  _actually_ wanted to talk to him, and also because he was a bit like a stupid teenager, which was kind of endearing. 

 _You: Sorry._ Octavian's fingers hovered nervously over the type pad and he swallowed,  _thank you. For walking me home the other day. I was pretty freaked out._

_Michael: Yeah ik dont sweat it tho, i didnt mind_

_You: Is this weird? Am I being weird?_

_Michael: Hey i was the one who offered to be friends so im pretty sure im weird XD or were both weird_

_You: Yeah, okay I'll take that._

_Michael: So wuu2?_

_You: Huh?_

_Michael: What you up to* sorry_

Octavian sighed. Christ, he didn't even know the slang of his generation. How long had he been cut off from the world? Too long, clearly.

_You: Just sitting in bed. What about you?_

_Michael: WOrking,, ughhh...im so tired_

_You: It's only nine? Go back to sleep._

_Michael: And leave Silena to tend the bar herself? lol hell no_

_You: Who's Silena?_

_Michael: My best friend since we were kids. Shes ur age u should meet her_

Octavian bit his lip,

_You: I'm not really big on people_

_Michael: Ah right_  
_Hey i have to go some irishmen just came in_  
_My friends are coming for drinks on Friday and I know u dont like people but u could come a bit later? idk just a suggestion. We could get to know each other better?_

Octavian wanted to. Jesus he wanted to have friends, he wanted to be  _normal._ But the idea of sitting with the bawdy people he saw the other day filled him with nausea. The idea of someone as much as touching his shoulder was enough to send him spiralling into anxiety. What the actual fuck had he been thinking, texting Michael?! He had twenty seven days until it would all be over.

_You: Sorry. Maybe some other time._


	16. Act 3, Scene 4

** **

**MICHAEL**

It was a busy Friday, like more busy than usual, which was pretty damn busy. Almost all the tables were filled and with Reyna behind the bar, Mike took to circling round the room and making sure everyone had their orders. This would've taken him less time if he wasn't constantly checking his phone for texts from Octavian. They talked for the whole of the day before, but since lunchtime Octavian had been weirdly silent. Mike asked him if he was coming to the pub, but the boy didn't reply. He told Michael that he didn't work or study earlier, but the barman just assumed he was doing some other shit. It didn't stop him from checking his phone every two minutes.

"Mike!" one of the big Polish men in the corner raised his glass, which was empty, "More beer!" he boomed over the noise of the pub.

"Coming right round, lads!" Mike said as he placed a line of shots in front of three girls who were all making big eyes at him. Michael barely noticed as he went to the group of Polish men and took their glasses, giving them to Reyna so she could refill them. It was stifling hot in the room and Mike kind of wanted to go outside for some air and a fag, but right now he had too much on his head to give himself a break. Silena was sitting with Beckendorf and normally Mike would ask her to help out, but she looked so absorbed in the man that Michael didn't want to ruin it. 

Mike took the beer from Reyna, who gave him the  _busy night, eh?_ smile and then he delivered the drink to the recipients. He exhaled and fixed his bow-tie. He saw his friends in one of the booths, squeezed together. Percy walked in with a big smile and sat down next to them so Michael quickly hurried over. He wanted to at least exchange a few words with them before he was called away again. 

"Nico, Percy," Mike hadn't noticed the florist, who was sitting so close to Jason he was practically in his lap, "Drinks?"

"I'll have vodka with lemonade," Percy said cheerfully, as if Mike didn't know his order already, "The blue one, yeah?"

Mike rolled his eyes and closed the little pad he needed for orders,"Sure man. Nico?"

"Coke," Nico said. 

"At least not water like Silena," Mike joked, rubbing his stubbly cheek. In all fairness he was glad Silena wasn't drinking. Not that he didn't trust Beckendorf or anything, but he just didn't want to risk Silena doing something dumb. She was a massive lightweight. Before Mike could even listen to the conversation going on, an Italian couple across the room called for him. Mike fought a sigh and slipped away from his friends mid-way through one of Leo's weird rants. On his way to the table, he slipped his phone out of his pocket but his screen was still empty. No new messages, and no Octavian to be seen in the crowd. Mike felt bitterly disappointed. He tried to keep it off of his face as he leaned on the counter, behind which Reyna was bustling around like an ant,

"One coke and one vodka with blue lemonade."

"For Percy and Nico?" Reyna guessed, putting two glasses of cider in front of a middle aged couple at the bar. Michael nodded and looked as his friend prepared the drinks. Mike glanced at his phone again and his heart skipped a beat when he saw he had one new message, and then his stomach twisted when he realised it wasn't from Octavian. 

_Gwen: Hey, I'm staying at Leila's house tonight. Don't wait up._

The words were so cold that Michael almost flinched. He was glad though - that he wouldn't have to have another argument with Gwen. Reyna put Nico's and Percy's drinks on the bar and Michael scooped them up quickly, trying to push both Gwen and Octavian out of his mind. A drunk girl stumbled to the bar,

"More whiskeyyyy," she slurred. Reyna raised an unimpressed eyebrow,

"You've had enough, honey."

Michael manoeuvred in-between people crowding the pub and made it to the table that his friends sat at. He barely had time to place the drinks down before someone was calling for him again. Mike offered his friends an apologetic smile and then blended back into the people. 

"Here," Reyna appeared at his side, carrying a tray full of whiskey glasses, "You go behind the bar, and I'll do the rounds," she said with a smile. Michael squeezed her shoulder, glad for a moment of peace. His phone was silent for the rest of the night. 

**OCTAVIAN**

He didn't go to the pub on Friday, even though Mike asked him a bunch of times, for the following reasons.

For one, there was the constant reminder on Octavian's calendar that sternly told him that he only had twenty seven days to live. He couldn't help but fear that maybe he'd get attached to Michael and not kill himself, and when Michael would eventually move on, Octavian would still be miserable and alive. He preferred to push the man away before he even had the chance to get close and spend his last few days of life alone. 

Another reason was that not only was the pub probably packed with drunk people who knew no boundaries, but it got dark at six and Octavian was  _not_ going on the streets on a Friday, all by himself, and risk getting pulled into some alleyway.  _Let's see what's under that expensive little shirt..._

The third reason was that he spent the day throwing up and having violent panic attacks. He didn't know why, but sometimes he just got overwhelmed with emotions and memories and he'd have to curl up in bed and cry until he couldn't breathe and pass out from exhaustion, only to wake up from his nightmares because his empty stomach was rebelling. It was one of those nights where Octavian scrubbed his skin practically raw in the shower, even though June twenty seventh happened years ago and physically he was  _clean._ It didn't matter, Octavian still wanted to peel his skin off if only to get rid of that memory. 

He woke up the next morning and everything hurt. His lungs ached from all the breathing problems he had the night before, his throat felt raw. His skin had a pink tint to it and he had bags under his eyes like no tomorrow. There was a scab on his lip from where he bit it too hard, and he was pale as if he was already dead. Octavian decided that although he felt better, he was not going out in that state. He hadn't cared about his appearance in a long time, but now he was finally realising that he looked fucking terrible. 

Octavian pulled on his favourite oversized black jumper and curled up on his sofa, watching Preacher on Netflix and trying to get rid of the chills he kept getting. The day inched by like any other - he tried to draw for a bit, then he slept. He made spaghetti for dinner and ate a little bit of it. He texted his mother to tell her that he was alright. She didn't text back, which still made Octavian sad, even though he should've been used to it. Octavian re-read the text messages Michael sent him the night before, but he couldn't bring himself to reply.

 _Michael: Hey are u coming??_  
              _Yoooo Octaviannnn_  
_Tav u coming or no?_  
_im gnna assume no_  
_hey im srsly worried can u at least reply???_

Around nine in the evening, the knock on the door came. It sent Octavian's heart racing and he curled up even smaller on the couch, muting the Netflix and desperately pretending he wasn't home. The knocking persisted and Octavian flinched every time the fist hit the door. His ears buzzed and he squeezed his eyes shut. The last time someone knocked on his door...well, it was the doorman but he had a specific way of knocking and this was a lot harder, and stronger, and more terrifying...That's when his phone buzzed. It was Michael calling. Octavian had never picked up so fast in his damn life,

 _"Yo, it's me idiot, open the door,"_ Michael said on the other side. Octavian exhaled shakily, relieved, and climbed off of the couch on his legs made of cotton wool, the phone still pressed to the ear. He could hear Michael chuckle softly as Octavian undid the latches on his door and opened them. The barman stood on the other side, grinning, his phone in one hand and a plastic bag in the other.

"Your doorman gave me the number of your apartment," he said, and Octavian heard him double because they were still on the phone to each other. Flushing, Octavian quickly hung up. He had no idea what the hell Michael was doing in his doorway, "Um, so," the man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "I was kind of worried 'cause you weren't replying last night soo...um...," he lifted the plastic bag, "I brought ice cream and alcohol?" he gave Octavian a small smile, "thought you might be in a bad mood so wanted to cheer you up."

Octavian's heart flipped and he felt lightheaded all of a sudden. Michael was close enough that Octavian could smell him (cigarette smoke and a musky cologne), but not close enough that it made Octavian uncomfortable. The blonde shivered and moved to the side, partially hiding behind the door to let Michael in. The man grinned at him and slipped off of his shoes. He looked so out of place in Octavian's bare, pristine apartment, but Octavian still liked him there, all scruffy and messy among polished surfaces. 

 "Nice place," Michael nodded in approval, looking around with big eyes. They were the colour of dark chocolate. Octavian made a face at him. He  _hated_ the place, it never felt like home to him, "So," Michael walked into the living room, which was separated from the kitchen only by a short counter. The man put his shopping on top of it, "I've got bourbon," he pulled out a dark golden bottle from his bag, "and the cheapest tesco ice cream?" he added, almost apologetically. Octavian couldn't fight the small smile that appeared on his face as he gestured to the couch, where the Preacher was still playing without any sound, "Netflix and chill?" Mike asked and wiggled his eyebrows, "I'll have you know that I have a fiancee."

Octavian's heart literally  _dropped._ He was aware that his entire face fell and it took him a few seconds to pull himself together and try to look like he hadn't just felt like he got punched in the gut. He tried to smile but he couldn't make himself. He felt like throwing up again.  _What did you expect?! What did you even want?! Christ, you can't even talk, or touch anyone, you'd think Michael would fix all of your damn issues?! You're dead in twenty seven days - you should be happy that Michael's happy! He deserves to be..._

Octavian sat down on the couch, mostly because he couldn't stand anymore. He reached for the note pad on the coffee table and turned to a new page. With a shaky hand he wrote out  _Congratulations_ on the paper. Michael smiled, but it seemed uneasy,

"Thanks," he spied glasses in one of the cabinets and helped himself to them, "Want a drink?" Octavian held up one finger, "Gotcha," Michael smiled and poured the drinks as Octavian figured out how to turn the volume back on his TV. He went on the Netflix home page but he was a pretty bossy guy so he didn't wait for Michael to choose, instead putting on his favourite movie of all time - Spirited Away. So yeah, it was an anime, but at least it didn't have any dark themes that would trigger him into a panic attack. Michael came and sat down on the other side of Octavian's couch, as far away from its owner as he could, something the blonde was thankful for. The barman passed him a spoon and put the ice cream tub in between them, "Are we leaving the lights on?" he asked.

Normally Octavian would, but somehow he wasn't as scared of the dark with Michael, almost like the man brightened up the shadows, so he slid off of the couch and flipped the lights off. The massive living room was drowned in darkness so Octavian quickly hurried back to the couch, curling up on his end. Michael watched him with a weird look on his face as the movie started.

Octavian kept his eyes firmly on the screen, at least at the beginning, sipping at his drink. Then his eyes began to wander to Michael. He glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye and evaluated the way his hair fell into his eyes, the collarbone peeking out from where his shirt was unbuttoned slightly. He had big hands, and they were playing with the spoon when he wasn't eating the ice cream. Nervously Octavian reached out with his own spoon and took a scoop. He shoved it in his mouth and almost missed the way Michael glanced at him and smiled fondly, before turning back to the screen. It made Octavian feel all weird and mushy, and warm.

By the time Haku was chased by the paper birds, the drinks and the ice cream was gone. Octavian wanted to break the silence, even if it was weirdly comfortable, but of course he couldn't. Instead he reached for his pad and scribbled a quick message down. It was simple really, but Octavian had serious communicating issues, so even that was a bit hard.

_Thanks for coming._

Michael smiled at the message, and Octavian watched him nervously. He expected the man to reply, but instead he pulled out a pen from his pocket and scribbled something down underneath Octavian's line.

_Anytime. Alcohol, Netflix and friends are my favourite way to spend the weekend._

He didn't pass the notepad to Octavian, instead placing it on the couch in-between them so their hands didn't accidentally touch. Octavian took it and read the message with a smile, feeling his heart expand in his chest until it seemed too big. 

_So we're friends now, huh?_

Michael smirked and wrote back,  _Sorry am I not good enough for you?_

_Yeah, sorry you can't sit with me._

_Is that a mean girls reference?!_

_I'm surprised you got it._

_Boo you whore._

Both the boys were grinning for the rest of the movie, passing notes back and forth and Octavian slowly sank into a safe warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't scared that someone would jump out of the shadows, or break in. For once he wasn't thinking about June 27th, or about his fast-approaching suicide day. For once he was just enjoying the company of another human being, and subconsciously moving closer to him.

**MICHAEL**

He thought about it - guiltily. About leaving Gwen, breaking off the engagement. But the thought didn't actually seem  _real_ until one of the mornings Mike woke up on Octavian's couch with the blonde curled up in the armchair like a cat, flickering through Netflix. That morning, almost two weeks after the first time Mike came over, with the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen and the TV murmuring softly, Michael realised that what he used to feel about Gwen, that heart pounding, stomach clenching feeling, he now felt for Octavian. 

The table was littered with ripped pages from Octavian's notepad, dozens funny messages written out on it. Michael wanted to collect all the pieces and keep them, but he thought that might've been weird. It was the first time Michael realised that he spent more time at Octavian's than at home, that he preferred to spend his evening a meter away from the boy, just enjoying his presence, than sit in his flat with Gwen and make 'love' to her. 

Michael propped himself up on his arm, the blanket he slept under pooling around his waist. Octavian's eyes were on the TV, his hands curled around a steaming mug of tea. He looked like a ghost in the grey morning light, pale hair, pale eyes, pale skin. Mike felt like he could spend all morning on the couch, just staring at him and tracing his skin with his eyes. God, Mike felt it harder and harder to not reach out to the boy, to even just touch him hand. Keeping his distance was driving him insane. But it wasn't just that - over the two weeks Tav opened up to him, not a lot, but just enough. Mike knew that he was selectively mute, and that anxiety was stopping him from talking. But something must've happened to make Octavian the way he was - the boy from the ID picture didn't just wake up one day without a voice, and although Mike didn't want to push, he also wanted to know what Octavian was going through, and he wanted to help. 

Octavian waving his hand in a  _yo, you still with me?_ manner brought Mike back to earth. The man flushed and looked away quickly as Octavian smiled into his coffee. 

"Good morning to you too," Mike grumbled and stretched. He hadn't meant to fall asleep at Tav's _again_ , but it just happened. When Michael glanced at his phone he expected fifteen missed calls and a hundred messages from Gwen, but instead there was just one text.  _Going to sleep at Leila's._ It didn't even hurt anymore. Michael stretched again, his bones clicking, and yawned, "I wish you wouldn't put the TV on so damn early," he grumbled. Octavian glanced pointedly at the clock, and Mike saw that it was nearing midday. He swore. Reyna was going to  _kill_ him.

Octavian offered Mike his tea with a sympathetic, and slightly amused grin as if he could read his mind. Mike took the cup, careful to not touch Octavian's hand by accident.

"You could have woken me up," he complained as he sipped some of the boy's tea. Octavian leaned over the table for the pen and paper, and his shirt rode up just enough for Mike to see a sliver of pale skin. He looked away quickly before Tav saw him staring again, but the boy was too busy scribbling down a message to pay attention to where Michael was looking. 

 _Do I look like your fucking alarm clock?_ the message said. Mike snorted - Octavian was so quiet that he forgot sometimes how sarcastic and sassy he was,

"Yeah totally," Mike rolled his eyes and passed Tav his cup back, "You're a real analogue."

Octavian glared at him playfully and then wrote another message, stretching out in his armchair,

 _Get out of my house asswipe,_ the message was rude but the grin on Octavian's face meant that he was kidding. Mike smiled fondly,

"Idiot," he said and stood up, "Come by later will you?" he asked as he slipped on his shoes. He needed a shower, and to get back to work. Thank God Tav lived only a few streets from Olympus. The blonde boy bit his lip but then nodded hesitantly. Lately Mike had tried to drag him out of his apartment more, get him to come to the pub at off-peak hours. He didn't want Octavian to sit at home all alone, especially with the scary amount of sleeping pills and anxiety meds he had lying around, "Okay, see you later twat," Michael said. Then there was that awkward two second period where Mike had to  _literally_ fight the need to reach out and squeeze Tav's shoulder, or ruffle his hair, or  _something._ The blonde looked uncomfortable and he waved, clearly indicating that he was saying goodbye. So Michael just waved back and left the apartment with his heart feeling like it was part of a circus. 

**OCTAVIAN**

He woke up to the familiar bleached ceiling of the local hospital, his head feeling groggy. He was attached to an IV, his head pulsing with heat-like pain. It was dark outside, the blinds open just enough so Octavian could see the lights in the windows of the buildings opposite. The steady  _beep, beep, beep_ of the heart monitor was just adding to the pulsing in Octavian's head. The boy sat up and hissed when his vision went blurry, and his head spiked with sudden pain. He tried to remember how the fuck he got to a hospital. It happened a lot - black out sessions, or periods of time when Octavian couldn't remember what he was doing or how he ended up somewhere. But it never got him to hospital before. That realisation was enough to make his heart beat faster and his breathing turn more laboured.

The boy replayed his evening in his head. He remembered taking a shower because he ran out of shampoo, then he took his meds. He ate a slice of leftover pizza that Mike brought the night before, then he changed and took his meds. He remembered the cold feeling of his keys in his hand, and that one of the lights was flickering in the corridor, which meant he must've left the flat...or was that yesterday? Everything was a bit blurry but Octavian was pretty sure he made it out onto the corridor...

_Fuck did you take your meds twice?!_

Octavian desperately wrecked his fucked-up brain to try and remember how many pills he had swallowed. He had a drink...with the pizza, or before maybe. He took five different meds before that, and after...yes, he was pretty sure he had more meds after that drink, something  _stupid_ he hadn't done since he tried to overdose.  _Idiot, idiot, idiot,_ Octavian's head throbbed and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of the pain. There were stairs, Octavian was practically skipping down them, and then darkness...

"Let me see him!" the voice startled Octavian badly, making his body tense as if preparing for a punch. The voice was muffled by the door, which had a blind over the little window so the boy couldn't see the corridor. He heard shuffling and shouts,

"Sir! You're not family-" that must've been one of the nurses. The other voice was Michael, Octavian had no doubt about that. A stupid thought suddenly came into the boy's head, that he desperately wanted to sort out his hair and get out of the ugly green nightgown he was in, that he didn't want Michael to see him like that, but then Octavian scolded himself.  _He has a fucking fiancee! Get yourself together._ So he just clenched his hands into fists and watched with big eyes as the door to his room burst open. 

Michael's dark hair was sticking up as if he ran all the way from his pub. He was still in his shirt and bow-tie, and his eyes were so full of worry and care that they melted Octavian's heart. A nurse chased in after Michael but she stopped when she saw the man just staring at Octavian,

"Christ,  _Tav_ ," Michael's voice broke and he looked like he was ready to cry, "What the hell happened?"

"He fell down the stairs. A concussion," the nurse said, clearly done fighting Michael. The man cleared his throat, 

"Sorry ma'am, could you leave us alone?" he asked softly, his broad shoulders trembling. The nurse glanced at Octavian, who just nodded. She left the room and closed the door, and that was when Michael collapsed in the chair next to Octavian. The blonde didn't even flinch - his head hurt, he felt like shit, and yet he had never been so glad to see someone as he was right now. He  _hated_ hospitals, and having Michael close...well, it was comforting.

"I...I waited for you," the man said hoarsely, his eyes searching Octavian's face. His hands were clenched in Octavian's blanket as if to stop himself from reaching out and touching the blonde, "You didn't answer the texts or the calls. I was...fuck, I was just so worried...and when I went to your apartment the doorman said...," he swallowed thickly, "that you were taken by the ambulance, that you had an accident...," he squeezed his eyes shut, as if he couldn't bring himself to look at Octavian. The boy reached up to touch his hair self-consciously and with a start realised that he had a bandage wrapped around his forehead. He had fourteen days until his suicide day, "Piper came with me," Michael continued numbly, "She's outside...I think...," he glanced at Octavian and the pain in his eyes was almost palpable, "What happened, Tav?" he asked brokenly. 

Octavian just looked at him helplessly. He wanted to talk to Michael,  _trusted_ him enough to talk to him, but his voice didn't work. Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin and a pen. He put them on the blanket next to Octavian and the boy picked them up with shaky hands. He swallowed and stared at the napkin, wondering if he should tell Michael. He didn't want to worry him, but on the other hand he felt like if he lied the barman would be able to tell. 

With a trembling hand, Octavian wrote, not looking at Michael.

_I wasn't paying attention and I took my medication twice. And I had a drink._

Michael read the napkin quickly and then he looked up at Octavian with big eyes,

"Octavian what the  _fuck_?!" he demanded, "You can't just not pay attention! How many times has this happened?! How can you drink and take meds-"

Octavian glared at him heatedly. He really wasn't in the mood for a lecture, especially from Michael of all people. He knew he should've paid attention, he _knew_ okay. His head felt like he had been run over my a land rover. Octavian watched as Michael's anger deflated and his expression softened,

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I should've been there, I-I..."

 _You're not my babysitter,_ Octavian wrote bitterly. Of course the idea that Michael could've been with him, that he could be with Octavian  _all_ the time, was absolutely wonderful, and terrifying at the same time. But he had a fiancee, and Octavian was broken and messed up and it would never work...it would still be nice though.

"I'm not your babysitter, but I'm your friend," Michael said desperately, as if trying to get Octavian to understand, "You could've really hurt yourself tonight. Like worse than you did anyway. I don't think I could take it, if you...," he trailed off.

Octavian suddenly felt guilty about his suicide day. How would Michael feel after _that_? He'd probably hate Octavian, but eventually he'd forget him and move on. It's not like he loved Octavian or anything, like he said, they were just friends. Octavian didn't know which thought was worse - the idea of Michael at his funeral, or the fact that Octavian would never have anyone love him again. In any case, he felt familiar tears rush to his eyes and he knew from experience that there was no use fighting them. Normally the tears would be followed by a rather intense panic attack, but not this time. Michael's presence was enough to calm Octavian down, but not enough to stop him from crying. 

The boy buried his face in his arms, which he rested on his knees, and cried quietly. He never made a sound, and he just let all his bitterness and sadness and loneliness wash over him. It was better than building a dam around his feelings, because eventually they'd come pouring out and it wouldn't be pretty. Octavian let his tears flow and his shoulders shake and his heart ache as Michael sat next to him quietly, somehow comforting the blonde just with his presence.

Eventually Octavian sat up and wiped his eyes, which were probably red and puffy. He reached for the napkin, feeling numb, and on the last bit of space he wrote;

_I'm sorry for scaring you._

Michael read the words and his shoulders slumped. He looked at Octavian helplessly,

"I wish I could...," he stopped himself before he finished the sentence, looking away. Octavian's heart twisted. Michael's hand was still resting on the blanket, and ever so slowly Octavian reached over, shyly, hesitantly, until his shaking fingers brushed against Michael's wrist. His own hand looked hopelessly pale and fragile next to the barman's, but somehow that didn't scare Octavian. It only made his heart beat faster. Michael looked down at their hands, barely touching, with a weird expression on his face. Something between confusion, surprise, a little bit of happiness and something Octavian couldn't place.

Michael slowly took Octavian's hand in his own, as if scared that Octavian would pull away any second. He didn't. The blonde held his breath, his heart beating almost painfully, as Michael held his hand, his palm rough and warm. It was the best thing Octavian felt in ages, and it made a pleasant warmth spread through his body. He felt his eyes fill with tears again and he sniffed, Michael just smiled and squeezed his hand. And they just sat there, on the hospital bed at three in the morning, holding hands. 


	17. Act 3, Scene 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooo let me know in the comments what you want to see me write after this! I'm open to suggestions so you know...;)

** **

**OCTAVIAN**

Octavian, before June 27th 2014, would have wrinkled his nose at Michael's flat. It was above the pub, which meant that practically at all times from nine in the morning till eleven at night you could hear music and muffled conversations drifting up from downstairs, interfering with your life. The living groom had a battered couch you could open and sleep on, a coffee table stacked with old car magazines and pizza leaflets. The bookcase was overflowing with books, some horizontal, some portrait, leaning on each other like old men. There were worn curtains in all windows and  _way_ too many toothbrushes in the cramped bathroom. Everything smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. 

Octavian loved it. He loved every inch of that damn apartment, from the corners where the carpet peeled ever so slightly, to the cracked ceiling in the bedroom. It was messy and chaotic, and beautiful. Just like Michael. The man pestered the doctors a whole damn week and eventually they let Octavian out. The blonde made it clear that he wanted to go with the man by writing a very nice and polite message on a piece of paper -  _Let me go you fuckers -_ and Michael held his hand all the way to the pub.

It didn't remind Octavian of June 27th like he thought it would. Where that night had been all rough hands and pain, Michael's grip was always firm but gentle, letting Octavian know that he could withdraw his hand any moment he liked. Which Octavian didn't do, because he loved the way his fingers fitted in-between Michael's perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Octavian thought at the beginning that Michael was just walking him home, but when Octavian let them in and Michael saw the open pill bottles littering the counter in the kitchen he turned to the blonde with his mouth in a tight line,

"You'll stay at mine, okay?" he said warmly, but sternly, and Octavian couldn't do much more than nod. Michael collected his pills, Octavian shoved some clothes and his toothbrush into a bag, and then they went to the pub, "Is the couch okay?" Michael asked when they came in. He was clearly uncomfortable with his flat, but Octavian thought it was wonderful so he just smiled at him, and nodded. 

Michael treated him a bit like a butterfly, like he'd crack if he was pushed too hard. The barman called Reyna in to help Silena in the pub and then he ordered Octavian to clean up. Octavian didn't care that the shower was small, or that the only body washes were scented. He  _did_ care that there was a mirror, which he desperately avoided. When he came out, Michael was bustling around in his small, cramped kitchen, making scrambled eggs and bacon. Octavian perched on the counter, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. 

_You know we could just eat downstairs right?_ he wrote on an empty envelope. Michael rolled his eyes as he seasoned the food,

"It's Sunday, genius," he said, "Which means loads of people in the pub."

Octavian bit his lip and nodded. Sometimes it was hard to realise that Michael wasn't like other people - that he  _understood_ Octavian, and didn't try to 'fix' him by making stupid suggestions such as  _just try sitting with others_ or  _just try to talk._ No, Michael just looked after him, and cared for him, and that was so much more than Octavian could ask for. For a second he let himself imagine that that was his life, that he wasn't Octavian August the tragic, rich son of two lawyers. He imagined that June 27th never happened, and that he and Michael were together, that they lived in this cosy apartment and Michael loved Octavian and after he cooked him breakfast he'd gather him up into his arms and kiss him and-

_Come on little boy you know you like it, stop crying..._

Octavian's stomach churned and suddenly he felt stained and dirty. He slid off the counter and sprinted to the bathroom as his body revolted against him.

"Tav?!" Michael yelled after him but Octavian doubled over the toilet and threw up into it, his shoulders shaking, his body hit by waves of disgust, "Jesus, Octavian," Michael sighed from somewhere above him. Octavian's vision swam and when he felt Michael's fingers touch his shoulder lightly he flinched away violently, bile rising in his throat, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Michael backed away quickly. Octavian didn't want to push him away, he wanted to hang onto Michael until the fear and anxiety passed, but Octavian didn't trust his own body and right now he didn't want to be touched.

Both the boys looked up when they heard the apartment door opening.

"That's probably Gwen," Michael said, almost guiltily. Octavian hauled himself to his feet unsteadily, determined to meet this 'Gwen' also known as the world's luckiest girl in Octavian's head. She had Michael after all, and would have him forever, and that was painful. 

She was pretty, Octavian supposed as he stumbled into the corridor. She was dressed in a business suit, her hair pulled back from her face. Octavian  _wanted_ to give her a chance, but from the second he saw her he just wanted her to go, to disappear so he could pretend that Michael was his, if only for a little bit. And then there was her interaction with Michael,

"Hey," she said, kicking off her shoes.

"Hey," Michael replied. There was no hugging, no kissing, no touching, not even a smile. Octavian watched the weird exchange, "Octavian's staying here for a bit."

"Who the hell is Octavian?" Gwen sounded annoyed and then she finally noticed the boy, standing by the bathroom, "Oh," she just said, giving Octavian a once over, "What's this kid doing here?"

"All you need to know is that he'll be here for a while," Michael said. He seemed tense. Octavian wanted to hit Gwen and scream at her. She had the most amazing guy right in front of her, and he was all hers, and she looked right past him as if he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world, as if he was worthless. Octavian couldn't help but think how unfair it was - that the girl got to have Michael and didn't even appreciate him.

"Cool, whatever," Gwen said, shoving past Michael. The man crossed his arms over his chest,

"Where were you all night?"

"Leila's," Gwen just said, taking some bacon off of the frying pan. 

"You practically live at that girl's house," Michael sighed. Gwen gave Octavian a pointed look,

"Well you're always at this one's place so...," she shrugged, "Why you so quiet anyway, kid?"

"He's selectively mute," Michael said, tensing. Gwen snorted,

"Selectively  _what_?" she asked, "Is that some kind of new disorder?"

"No," Michael said, "It's a side effect of trauma."

"Oh is it?" the girl leaned on the counter and looked at Octavian until he felt uncomfortable, "So what happened to you?"

"He can't  _talk_ Gwen," Michael said, exasperated. Octavian didn't understand why the girl was so cold to Michael, why there was so much tension between them,

"Oh, right," Gwen rolled her eyes, "How long is he gonna stay here?"

"I don't know," Michael growled, his hands balled into fists.

"This is my house too, you know," Gwen snapped, glaring.

"We're going downstairs," Michael growled back. It looked like a fight between two wolves, "Tav, come on."

"Yeah, sure," Gwen smiled slyly at Octavian, "Run away from your problems - as usual."

***

Three days of sleeping on the couch and Octavian was really getting too damn comfortable in Michael's flat. He spent the days watching Netflix on the man's laptop, or learning how to cook, or sometimes (on quiet days) he'd go downstairs and sit with Michael behind the bar, or be in the kitchen with one of the girls. He was still terrified of people and touching, but he slowly built himself up and Michael's support really helped him sort things out a little bit. He would even whisper to himself at night, barely audibly, and was startled to find he could speak if he was alone. With someone else it was almost impossible - even with Michael. His voice just wouldn't work - the way it didn't work that night. 

Octavian also met Piper - a sweet girl from next door's coffee shop. Michael explained that she was his best friend, and Octavian sometimes sat with the two and listened to their conversations.

"You're always at the hospital," Michael said one time, cleaning glasses while Octavian perched on a stool next to him, "Leo's complaining."

"Leo's barely home," Piper said, annoyed, "he's always at that weird mansion. He barely comes over anymore, and I only see him at work."

"But why the hospital?" Michael seemed confused. Octavian saw Piper's shoulders tense,

"I don't want to talk about it," she said quietly. 

From Reyna Octavian knew all the secrets that people on Argo Street had. He knew about the florist boy who didn't drink alcohol called Nico, and the blonde tattoo artist. According to Reyna they were both in love with each other, and yet neither of them knew it was returned so they walked on eggshells around each other, which really pissed everyone off. She told him about the homeless guy off of the streets who disappeared a few days back, and about Percy who was acting all weird. Piper was acting all weird too, apparently going to the hospital most evenings. Leo had his mysterious 'sugar-mommy,' Silena and Beckendorf were a couple, and Michael and Gwen had some serious relationship problems.

"Yeah," Reyna said as Octavian helped her wash the dishes one night, "Gwen's barely at home these days, she says she's at her friend's Leila's house, but I don't think that's true. I think she goes somewhere else... I know that if Mike found out he'd leave her instantly, but...," she sighed, "He's like my brother, I don't want to ruin their relationship. Not that it's not already ruined - she's not home at all and when she is, all she does is argue with Mike."

That wasn't true. The second night Octavian laid awake on the couch, a small bedside lamp turned on because he didn't like sleeping in the dark. Through the thin walls he heard Gwen's high pitched moans, and Michael's low groans, and the bed smacking against the wall. Octavian's first instinct when he woke up to this was to run out of the apartment, because  _fuck_ that just sounded too much like _that night_...but after shoving earphones in and playing some loud music the feeling was replaced by a different one.

Octavian was jealous. He didn't think his mind or body was ready to be  _that_ close to someone, and yet he was still angry and frustrated that Michael was just in the next room over, fucking someone else. It was a horrible, stomach churning feeling that had no right to be. Michael could have sex with whoever he wanted, and Octavian had no right to be mad about it. And yet he still was.

On the third night Gwen was staying over at Leila's house again, and it was almost back to 'normal' between Octavian and Michael. The blonde made carbonara for dinner which he thought turned out decent, and he and Michael ate on the couch watching old re-runs of the X-factor. It was peaceful, it was wonderful. Octavian sat close enough to Michael that their shoulders touched. For some reason Michael was the only one who Octavian was okay with touching him, and although he was too scared to do more than hold hands or let their knees press together, it was still comforting and promised Octavian that maybe one day he'd be able to function normally again. 

Octavian was actually sleeping peacefully for once, when he was woken up by a glass smashing against the floor, and Michael swearing. The blonde sat up on the couch, his heart pounding, his eyes wide. He was ready for the hands to press him down, to cover his mouth and hurt him, but when the lights were flipped on Octavian realised that it was only Michael, a bottle of bourbon in one hand. 

"Shit, sorry," he looked at Octavian helplessly. His hair stuck up to one side, "I couldn't sleep so I came for a drink, but I smashed the glass..."

There was blood dripping from his hand where he had cut himself and Octavian had to fight his nausea as he got up shakily. He tried not to look at Michael's cut hand as he grabbed the broom and took to sweeping the floor as the barman put the bottle away and run his hand under the sink. There was some blood on the glass on the ground, but Octavian just swept it away quickly. 

"Hey, you're not wearing any shoes!" Michael protested, "You'll hurt you feet! Just leave it, I'll vacuum in the morning."

Octavian hesitantly put the broom away and Michael turned the water off. Immediately blood welled up on the cut on his palm again and he hissed in pain. With shaky hands and a protesting stomach, Octavian reached into the medicine cabinet (he had to stand on his tip toes to do so) where he kept all his pills, and pulled out a roll of bandages. He desperately wanted to cover Michael's cut, didn't want to look at the scarlet liquid.  _There was so much blood..._ If Michael noticed how unsteady Octavian's hands were, he didn't say anything. With bile in his throat, Octavian clumsily wrapped the cut on Michael's hand, trying to be as gentle and precise as he could even though his head was spinning. Somehow he managed to do an okay job.

"Thanks, Tav," Michael smiled at him gently, clenching and unclenching his fist. Octavian's stomach flipped and then he was running to the bathroom and bending over the toilet, puking up the carbonara from earlier. Michael came in after him and squatted on the floor, his hand rubbing Octavian's back ever so gently. The blonde was okay with that, but he didn't want Michael to see him in this state, "It's okay," the man said gently, almost like he could read Octavian's mind, "Don't worry about it."

Octavian sat back, feeling weak and cold. He shivered violently and looked at Michael tiredly. His eyes stung but he didn't want to cry, he just wanted to go back to sleep. Michael looked at him with his soft eyes and reached out to cup Octavian's cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb against the boy's cheekbone. Octavian let out a quiet sigh and let his eyes flutter shut, pressing his face into Michael's hand, his hair falling into his eyes. He felt like he could stay like that forever. 

When Michael tugged him forward invitingly, Octavian didn't object. He let Michael fold him gently into his arms and his heart skipped a beat, but it wasn't from fear. Octavian's eyes were still closed as he buried his face in Michael's muscular shoulder, but he still knew it was Michael, even though he couldn't see him. He smelled wonderful, familiar, and he held Octavian like he was the most precious thing in the world. Octavian exhaled shakily, his hands coming up to grip at the back of Michael's t-shirt. 

"Is this okay?" the man's breath ruffled Octavian's hair. The blonde nodded and Michael's arms tightened around him. Octavian could feel every inch of his body that was touching Michael, flaring with sudden pleasant heat that spread all the way up to his ears and down to his toes. His body was trembling, his skin prickled with goosebumps as Octavian's heart pounded. He hadn't felt that good in a long time and he just let Michael hold him for what seemed like forever, his fingers brushing through Octavian's hair, his other hand rubbing his back. It was perfect, and maybe that's why Octavian started crying. 

**MICHAEL**

Octavian felt like his boyfriend, and Gwen like a roommate. It was five days before the Christmas Party and Michael woke up once again to a cold, empty bed with Gwen gone, and with the smell of waffles drifting from the kitchen. He wondered if he would even bother going to the party with his fiancee, or if he should go with Octavian...no, the boy still didn't like crowds and Mike's friends got a bit...wild sometimes. Still, the man didn't want to go with Gwen. Actually he didn't want to go at all, he preferred to stay in with Octavian. 

He didn't want the blonde to leave, and quite frankly he was scared for him. Octavian wasn't...stable. That didn't mean that Michael adored him any less, but he was just worried - no, terrified - that he could lose the blonde if he left him alone for too long. He just wanted to take care of him, just make sure he was alright. He didn't want to let him go. But Gwen was frustrated. That night, five days before the Christmas party, the girl came to bed in a bad mood. Which was her mood like, always anyway.

"How long will he be here for?" she demanded, not even bothering to lower her voice. Michael winced,

"Can you whisper or something?" he grumbled, plumping up a pillow, "As long as he needs to, okay? I don't want him to be alone-"

"Why?" Gwen snapped, her eyes furious, "What is this? You pay more attention to him than to me, are you in love with  _him_ now?"

Her words sent a shock through Michael, and his mouth tightened into a thin line, "You're never home how am I supposed to pay attention to you?"

"I don't know," Gwen growled, "But we're meant to be getting married!"

"I-I...," Michael swallowed.

"What?" Gwen sneered, "Now you're going to tell me you don't want to, isn't it? God you're pathetic! You're in love with that kid, aren't you?!" Michael stood up and Gwen punched him in the shoulder. Of course it didn't do anything,

"Stop it," Michael snapped, "He'll hear you."

"Good!" Gwen laughed, "This is  _my_ house and I don't want him here! All he does is throw up and take up space and-"

" _Shut up!"_ Michael growled. He felt like throwing Gwen out - he hated the way she spoke about Octavian. He couldn't understand how she could even think of him that way. 

"Yes protect him! Why not? After all he's your little slut boy-"

"How f-fucking dare you...," Michael's stomach twisted with disgust, "When did you become so cruel Gwen?"

"Me?  _Me_?" Gwen demanded, "Maybe you're just not good enough! Look at you going off and picking up stray boys like some pimp! That little rape victim...that's what happened to him, isn't it?! He got raped and now you want to fix him! I bet you fuck him when I'm not here! I bet you take him to  _our_ bed and cheat on me! Is that it?! Are you cheating on me?!" Something in Gwen's eyes made the pieces click together.

"Who's Leila?" Michael asked quietly. Gwen laughed hysterically, 

"Oh finally caught on, have you! There is  _no Leila_! His name's Leon, and he's my lover because you're not good enough for me! Because I don't love you anymore-"

"Get out," Michael growled. He felt betrayed, disgusted...but not heart broken. Maybe even a little bit relieved. His emotions suddenly crumbled to pieces and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. What he feared and expected the most had finally come to be, and Mike was a mess, "The wedding won't happen. It's over."

"Good!" Gwen spat. Michael watched as she grabbed a bag and shoved some essentials inside. She left the house and banged the door closed, and only then Michael let himself collapse onto the bed. He suddenly felt horrible. All those years with Gwen...all thrown away. It was sickening and suddenly Mike was blaming himself, thinking maybe it was his fault. If he had tried harder to fix everything, if he tried to please Gwen more, then maybe they could've worked everything out...but she cheated on him...

The creak of the floor alerted Mike to Octavian's presence. The pale boy was hovering near the door, biting his lip. Gwen's words circled in Michael's head.  _You're in love with that kid, aren't you? He's your little slut boy...The little rape victim. I bet you fuck him when I'm not here._ It was all too much. Sudden hate bloomed inside Mike, for himself and for Gwen, and a little bit for Octavian. He couldn't believe he fell in love with him when he was meant to love Gwen, when he was meant to fucking _marry_ her. 

Michael stood up and closed the door in Octavian's face. 


	18. Act 3, Scene 6

** **

**~~~~MICHAEL**

Everything was just...messy. Octavian left the same night Gwen did, so Mike woke up to an empty, cold apartment. He couldn't drag himself out of bed, even when Silena came knocking at his door, saying his shift was on. Half of the man wanted to call Gwen, to beg her forgiveness and ask her to come back, so they could talk everything out and try  _again._ The second part wanted to run to Octavian's apartment and just get the stupid three words off of his chest. It was okay if Octavian didn't love him back, Mike could live with that. 

But he was confused and hurt and his head hurt so instead he just smoked and slept and tried to gather his thoughts. A few weeks back he would have had a dozen people to talk to about his situation, but Jason was busy chasing after Nico and they barely talked, and Beckendorf and Silena just confessed to each other so Mike didn't want to ruin their mood by telling them about his own problems. He rarely saw Piper anymore, or Leo. Will was against Gwen from the start, and Reyna would be biased too. Except for his girls nobody knew about Octavian, and about what Michael felt for him. Christ, it was all just so confusing and complicated, and Mike didn't know what to do. 

The days passed by hazily because maybe Mike got a bit drunk at work, and at home. Everything was a blur of working behind the bar, and cigarette smoke curling out of the window, and snow. Michael didn't remember when the snow first fell, just one day it did and Mike glared at it sulkily through the window. He went to Octavian's that first snowy night and knocked, but the boy didn't answer. Mike didn't make it home and fell asleep on a bench. 

He probably would've forgotten all about the stupid Christmas party if it wasn't for Reyna.

That day Michael was groggy from his nap when he heard her pounding on the door, and he had to drag himself to open it. He half expected it to be Octavian, but instead he came face to face with a pissed of Reyna. The disappointment was almost painful. 

"Are you still drinking yourself to death?" the girl demanded. 

"Actually I'm sober, thanks for caring," Mike said sarcastically. Reyna shoved past him into the apartment,

"Have you called Gwen?"

Mike's head pounded - he really didn't need Reyna giving him the  _you need to sort it out_ talk right now, "No," he said numbly. Reyna smiled,

"Good."

Only now Michael noticed that she was in a pretty purple dress. He raised his eyebrow at her, "The Christmas party," she sighed in reply, "of course you forgot."

"I was a bit pre-occupied," Mike grumbled. The last thing he wanted right now was to socialise.

"Don't give me that look," Reyna paraded into his bedroom and shoved open the closet, "You're going, whether you want to or not. Me and Silena spent ages planning this damn party and you're going, if only for an hour."

"Fine," Mike didn't have the strength to argue. He slumped against the wall and Reyna gave him a pitiful look, 

"Did Octavian not reply?" she asked, more gently now, carefully. Michael shook his head,

"I went to his but he didn't open the door."

Reyna looked uncomfortable, like she didn't know what to say. She pulled Michael's suit out of his closet and the man wondered when the hell everything went wrong. At the start of autumn he still had a loving fiancee, a nice, tight-knit group of friends, and a job he loved. Now it was the end of winter and he was a mess, and he lost two of the people he loved (even though the love for Gwen had disappeared). And now, instead of fixing everything, he was going to a stupid Christmas party.

*** 

"You should stop drinking," Michael said uncomfortably. Piper and Leo were leaning on each other, their eyes dazed, ready to pass out. Mike didn't know what had made them decide that alcohol was the best way to forget their problems, but he desperately wanted to join them. But Reyna was glaring at him sternly from across the room where she was talking to Percy and a random guy with him, and Mike didn't dare have more than the one drink in his hand. 

"'S fine," Leo mumbled. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared intensely at his glass as if willing the alcohol to make a magic trick. Piper rubbed her face,

"I should go see her...," she slurred. Mike frowned, trying to make sense of their drunk blabber,

"See who?" he asked impatiently. Piper didn't reply, just took another shot of vodka. Michael sighed. He was having a rotten time - everyone kept wanting to talk to him, but he felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and found it hard to smile and make small talk. Watching Piper and Leo get hammered off their heads made an uneasy feeling rise in his gut, like something bad was going to happen, though Mike doubted it had anything to do with the two in front of him.

He didn't want to be bitter, but the happy, excited atmosphere was making him more depressed. People were dancing in the middle of the dim hall, or laughing or drinking. Mike was in no mood for that, so when he saw Jason - his one salvation, looking as miserable as Mike - he pushed through the sea of people and collapsed at his friends side.

"Well you look downright miserable," he said instead of a hello. He looked at the clock - he had only been at the party for forty five minutes and he desperately wanted to leave. He didn't know where he wanted to go so bad - home, so he could fall into an alcohol-induced sleep or so he could drag himself to Octavian's and beg for his forgiveness. Christ, he missed the boy. He missed him way more than he missed Gwen, and a pang went through his heart every time he thought about him. 

"You don't look all that better," Jason mumbled as he sipped on his drink. 

"Boy troubles, eh?" Mike offered sympathetically. 

"How's Gwen?" Jason said, avoiding the question. His gaze tiredly swept the room, and Mike was pretty sure he was looking for Nico, who wasn't there. If anyone understood Michael's pain, it was Jason. That's why he decided to tell him, 

"We...eh, we broke off the engagement," he mumbled, heart pulsing to the beat of the music. 

"W-What?!" Jason chocked on his drink, 

"Yeah," Michael shrugged and looked at his full glass. He suddenly didn't want to drink it, "It wasn't really working out, and then someone else came along..."

"The boy from the bar," Jason said. Michael's heart twisted as Octavian's face flashed in his mind. He was surprised Jason even remembered him, "The one with the blonde hair-"

"Octavian," Mike whispered. _My Octavian._ His heart hurt and suddenly he wanted to run out and  _break_ down Octavian's door if he had to. He wanted to wrap his arms around the boy and kiss him, and apologise for pushing him away. He wanted him, all of him, including his anxiety and panic attacks and dark past and silence, "It was partly because of him, but not really. Things were bad even before that."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier, man?" Jason asked, but it didn't sound like an accusation. 

"You were busy pining after Nico," he smiled at Jason's widened eyes, "Yes, everyone noticed," he explained before Jason could even ask. 

"Nico's avoiding me though. He's not here tonight, probably because he doesn't want to see me," the blonde complained quietly, almost to himself.

"Actually," Mike interrupted, "He's not here because Kelli and Drew practically forced him to stay at the shop."

"W-What?!" Jason spluttered, clearly shocked. Mike didn't feel like explaining,

"Well, I'm going," Michael quickly finished his drink. He didn't want to be there anymore - he wanted to go and find Octavian. With his stomach twisting the way it was, he wanted to make sure the boy was safe, "Good party and all but-"

"I get it," Jason clasped his shoulder, "Merry Christmas, Mike."

"Merry Christmas," Michael saw the door behind Jason open.  _Speak of the devil and he shall appear,_ he thought and his smile grew into a genuine one, as he watched Nico di Angelo looked around uncertainly, like he was lost. _At least someone will be happy tonight..._ "I think your present's here."

He stayed long enough to see Nico pull Jason into a long awaited hug. He wished them the best, but it made his heart hurt to see everyone so happy, so he slipped out into the cold night. Petals of snow swirled from the dark skies and piled up on the empty street. Michael walked to the main street and then stopped. He could go left and hole himself up in his pub, or he could go right and try Octavian's door again. 

He thought of Piper and her mysterious visits in the hospital that left her red-eyed and exhausted. He thought of Nico and Jason and their tentative hug and soft words to each other, scared that the other would reject them. He thought of Percy and the blonde stranger he was with, and the way he looked at him, eyes full of hope. He thought about Leo, and the mysterious man in the mansion that nobody took seriously. He thought about Gwen leaving him, of how lonely Piper was all alone when Leo left her in their flat, of Luke the Lone Wolf sauntering around Argo Street. 

He thought about Octavian; his pale lashes and oversized jumpers, the way his hands shook when he wrote quick, sarcastic notes on napkins. He remembered the way the boy rolled his eyes, or the way he clung onto Michael when the man finally built up the courage to hold him. And suddenly Mike's heart hurt, and the pain made his breath catch. He loved Octavian. God, he loved him so much. And the feeling that something bad was going to happen wasn't going away. Michael felt worry and fear settle on his shoulders and all he could think about was  _Octavian, Octavian, Octavian..._

It was December 17th and instead of going left, he went right.

**OCTAVIAN**

It was snowing. Of course it was fucking snowing, what a beautiful irony. It never snowed in fucking London, but of course the day that Octavian chose to die the world just had to be blanketed in white. The boy stood on the roof of his building, looking out across the city and the millions of lights twinkling in the darkness. Fat snow petals flew from the void above, sprinkling the world like icing sugar. It was beautiful. It was beautiful, but Octavian only thought so because he was putting off the jump, biding his time. 

That should've been a clue to him - that he didn't want to die. But he thought being a bit afraid was normal, after all he was  _dying,_ still though...he stood on the roof in just a t-shirt and jeans. His hands were freezing, as were his feet, and his body was slowly going numb. Octavian was shivering and he didn't know whether it was from the cold or from fear. For once, it wasn't because of his anxiety. He was completely calm, at least this one time, replaying his life in his head.

He went back to June 27th 2014, for the last time. 

_Octavian was coming back from school after extra-curricular drama club. It was late, later than usual, and dark. Octavian had just shouted at his parents over the phone for not picking him up and was angrily walking down an empty London road. It was warm, and the air was wet. Octavian had three weeks until the end of year eleven, and then onto bigger things. He wasn't excited though, he was just pissed that he had to walk home._

_He turned to the alleyway because it was a known shortcut. Known and dangerous. How many times do you listen to people saying 'don't go out at night alone?' Yeah, well, Octavian didn't listen. He was a_ man  _and he was an idiot, and he thought he was safe. When he entered the maze of shady side streets, he had his earphones in his ears, his music blaring. It was weird but the one thing Octavian didn't remember from that night was what song was playing when they attacked him._

 _They came seemingly out of nowhere, or maybe they had just been waiting in the shadows for their prey and Octavian just hadn't noticed them. He did that - didn't notice things, lived in his own little bubble. When the hands grabbed him roughly, ripping the earphones out and making him drop his phone, he thought, with a detached sort of calm,_ I'm going to die.  _He didn't of course, though he wished that they had just killed him after. There was two of them, both big and tall, and hooded so Octavian could only see the outline of their faces in the darkness. Trembling words fell from his lips before he could stop them,_

_"I'll pay you!"_

_One of them laughed and the other sneered, "What have we here?"_

_"Oh, it's one of them private school boys, init," the other guy replied, gripping Octavian by his expensive uniform shirt and lifting him up so the boy had to stand on his tiptoes. He felt like he couldn't breathe from the fear coursing through his veins. The men stank of piss and just general uncleanness and Octavian felt sick. He remembered something one of the girls in school said once..._ just kick them in the balls.  _So Octavian did. He kicked the man holding him, hard, and with a wail he was dropped._

_Octavian's knees felt shaky but he took off anyway, heart pounding._

_"Hey! Grab him-" one of the men yelled. Octavian heard footsteps and laboured breathing behind him as he blindly ran down the alleyways. He had never been so scared in his life. One of the men, the one chasing him, grabbed him by the back of his blazer and slammed him into the wall, hard enough that Octavian's head started ringing and his vision blurred. He bit his tongue and blood exploded in his mouth. The other man limped up to them,_

_"Little fucker," he spat and then he punched Octavian across the face. The pain rang through him like a bell and made him slump against the wall._

_"Oi! Leave off," the other man snapped, "Don't fuck up his pretty face."_

_There were hands grabbing at him, and Octavian's head was dizzy. One of the men ripped his pants off and Octavian felt the hot taste of shame bloom in his mouth alongside the blood as panic twisted his stomach,_

_"S-Stop...," he protested, his voice high pitched with fear, and slurred, "What are you doing?!"_

_"Shut up," one of the men growled. His breath was sour. Octavian tried to fight back even though he felt like he would fall over any second. The men overpowered him easily, pressing his face up against the rough brick wall. They were laughing. Octavian wanted to scream but he couldn't find his voice, even then, he was just so_ scared.

_"Let's see what's under that expensive little shirt," the man growled, his breath hot and disgusting against Octavian's neck. The other man jeered and Octavian cried silently, wanting to shout for help but knowing that nobody would come. It hurt, so bad, and Octavian felt like being sick. He chocked on his tears as the men pressed against him, his arms twisted behind his back. He let out helpless, terrified sobs, as nausea hit him,_

_"Come on little boy you know you like it, stop crying," the man hissed after he was done. Octavian felt warm blood between his legs. The first man made space for the second one._

Octavian took a shaky breath as the freezing wind whipped at his face, making the tears that poured from his eyes seem like icicles. It was okay to cry now, it would all be over soon.  _That little rape victim..._

Octavian couldn't take it anymore. He climbed over the railing, standing right over the edge of the roof, though his hands still gripped the cold metal. It was a long drop, and the boy's stomach twisted. He wished he could say goodbye to Michael, that he could at least call him or something. But he had no voice. The wind whipped at him violently as Octavian looked down. He felt sick. He wanted someone to hold him one last time, he wanted Michael to wrap his arms around him and keep him warm, if only for a few minutes before the end. 

It was a beautiful day to die.

" _Octavian_."

Octavian squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenching on the railing. He was imagining it - Michael was  _not_ here, his sick, fucked up mind was just bringing up the last bit of warmth and kindness Octavian had ever felt. He felt more tears spring to his eyes. Somewhere streets away, music was drifting up into the night and oblivious people enjoyed the days before Christmas. Octavian just wanted to go, he wanted to let go and feel free for the last time, only air holding him. 

Instead, he felt strong, warm arms wrap around him. Octavian's eyes widened and his heart jumped out of his chest and tumbled down to the ground hundreds of miles away. Michael pressed himself against Octavian's back and held onto him, his forehead resting on the boy's shoulder. Octavian couldn't breathe. He never thought Michael would come after him, never thought he even  _cared_ enough to. He wanted to scream, but he didn't know why. He also didn't want Michael to ever let go of him. 

"Please don't do this," Michael whispered shakily, "D-Don't...just _don't._ Tav, you can't do this to me...call me selfish, whatever you want. I-I can't...if you go...," he trailed off, a shaky sob bubbling in his throar. Octavian realised that Michael was crying, clinging onto Octavian as if he was the one who needed the blonde, and not the other way around. Suddenly the ground seemed too close, and death seemed too impending. Octavian's heart flipped in his chest and he took a shaky breath that made his lungs ache. He didn't want to die.

_He didn't want to die._

He gripped Michael's hands in his desperately, nails digging into his skin, and ever so slowly turned around. The void was at his back, the wind tugging roughly at his hair and clothes as if trying to pull him off the ledge, and suddenly Octavian was terrified of falling. Michael's eyes were red, his hair messed as if had run all the way here. He didn't hesitate as he wrapped his arms around Octavian and pulled him back over the railing and into the safety of his arms. 

Michael dragged him away from the edge, fear evident in his eyes. And the he collapsed against Octavian, practically crushing the boy to his chest. 

"How could you  _do that_?!" he demanded, shaking and holding onto Octavian so the boy couldn't breathe, "H-How could you scare me like that?! Octavian fuck...don't ever do that again, I'd...I'd never be a-able to live without you...y-you  _fucking_ idiot..."

"You done?" Octavian whispered hoarsely. He didn't know when his voice came back, maybe when he finally realised that he didn't want to die, that he never wanted to. Michael pulled away and stared at Octavian with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Octavian didn't remember anything ever being as beautiful as Michael Kahale on that stupid roof, with snowflakes in his hair and tears in his eyes, "Is there something on my face?" Octavian joked feebly, because Michael was just  _staring._ His voice felt rusty and unused and alien, but Octavian was happy it was back. He had suffered in silence for too long. 

"God, I love you," Michael whispered helplessly, and then he cupped Octavian's face in his hands and kissed him. His lips were chapped, and soft, and they made Octavian's heart melt in his chest. He exhaled shakily as he pressed himself into the man's warmth, his body shaking. His eyes fluttered shut as Octavian felt a sudden heat bloom inside him, making it hard to tell which way was up and which way was down. Michael drew him into his arms carefully, gently, holding Octavian like he never wanted to let go. It was all too much really, but Octavian wasn't protesting. 

He forgot all about his pain and misery and just melted against Michael, feeling like his heart would burst. Here he thought that he'd never be loved again, that he was disgusting, and yet Michael  _knew_ what happened, and he didn't care. He still held Octavian like he wanted him, like he meant the words he said. And Octavian let himself believe it, let himself believe that Michael loved him.

When the man pulled away from him, Octavian was flushed and gasping for air, his body trembling,

"You're going to catch a cold," Michael's voice was rough.

"I love you," Octavian whispered, his words ending on a sob because he couldn't hold back his tears. He didn't even know why he was crying, maybe because he was finally safe, maybe because the blooming heat in his chest was happiness, something Octavian hadn't felt in so long that he forgot it even existed. Michael kissed him again, slow and passionate, and the snow continued to fall, and Octavian didn't die. 


	19. Act 4, Scene 1

**ACT 4 - FRANK and LEO**

**"BLACKMAIL"**

__

_a_ _pub. The light is dim, the corners shadowed in darkness. Several young people sit at the counter. One of them is a beautiful, exotic girl with a feather in her hair. She is drinking whiskey, with no chaser. Next to her sits a hyper-active, barely legal Latino boy, finishing his third shot of tequila, no lime, no salt._

_Leo Valdez doesn't drink often, but when he does, he drinks a lot._

_We're going to follow him home._

_ _

**LEO**

"Piper," Leo whispered. The living room was dark, indicating that it was still too fucking early for Leo to be awake. And yet the dryness in his throat and the spinning in his head stopped him from falling back into his alcohol-riddled sleep. He was hungover  _again,_ "Piper," Leo hissed again. Like many nights the two best friends didn't make it to their respective rooms and now Leo found himself spread out on the couch, his feet tangled with Piper's, who was sunken in the armchair. Leo poked her with his toe and she wrinkled her nose, her eyes fluttering open. She looked like hell - her hair stuck up in weird directions, and her eyes were blood-shot,

"What time is it?" she croaked. Leo struggled into a sitting position, his world tilting to the side. 

"Too early," he squinted at the clock on the wall but he couldn't really make it out in the darkness. The boy fumbled for his phone, glad that he still had it. He wasn't too worried since it was still either really late or super early, judging by the light, and he clicked his phone on. The divine light of Christ shone from the screen, blinding the boy momentarily and making him screech and fall sideways off the couch. His phone tumbled out of his hand and Piper picked it up, rubbing her head with her free hand as if trying to massage her headache away. Leo blinked up at the ceiling, trying to get his stomach to stop rebelling against him. He  _knew_ those fajitas before drinking were a stupid idea. 

"Leo," Piper whispered, sounding terrified.

"What?" Leo mumbled. He felt like crap.

"It's nine."

"What?" it couldn't be nine. Leo distinctly remembered that he only got to the bar last night at eight thirty. The whole drinking escapade couldn't have taken only half an hour...

"It's nine," Piper repeated. Everything clicked into place in Leo's head,

"The curtains are fucking drawn, Piper," Leo whispered shakily. That's why it was so dark. That's why it was so  _fucking_ dark. The two friends jumped to their feet in seconds,

"Shit, shit, shit," Piper ran around trying to find her shoes. Leo sniffed at his shirt, which he had on last night, and pulled a face. Did someone spill _beer_ on him? Too bad, he'd just have to work around getting little sleep and not having a shower. He'd done it before. Piper threw Leo's jacket at his head and the boy nearly fell over at the impact. He was a skinny little shit and it wasn't his fault that his hangover was making him even more unstable!

"Let's go! Let's go! Move out!" Leo hollered, dashing into the kitchen and pulling out two mars bars out of his and Piper's secret stash. He shoved one into the girl's hand and then they were out in their corridor, pounding down the stairs. Piper was swearing under her breath, Leo was tripping over his own feet. 

"Do we have time to call a cab?" Piper asked as they spilled onto the pavement. It was a cold, wet day,

"No just run sister!" Leo yelled, already overtaking her. The two whizzed through the morning crowd like arrows, shoving past pedestrians and mumbling hurried sorries. Leo caught sight of a red cape,

"Hey guys!" a dark skinned girl with a mass of curls yelled at them cheerfully, waving, a stack of letters in her arms, 

"Hi Hazel!" Piper and Leo called together, not slowing down. It was a great fucking start to the day. 

*** 

Leo and Piper were  _very_ careful not to get on Chiron's, their bosses, bad side any more that day. He wasn't 'mad' per say, more like disappointed. But Leo knew from experience that Chiron's 'disappointment' was worse than Coach Hedge's fury. So he and Piper scuttled around like the good kids they were, making coffee and preparing pastries with extra care. They complimented old ladies that came in for their morning scones, and speed-served coffee to busy business men on the run. Leo smiled for all of his customers, and joked around, while someone scratched their nails down a chalkboard in his brain. Piper fixed up somehow, but she still looked a bit green on the face. They really needed to stop drinking in the middle of the fucking week. 

Leo was maybe in work half an hour when suddenly a very red-faced and frazzled Percy hurled in like a stray bullet. Leo felt a smirk appear on his face - now here was a little excitement to his morning. The latest news on Argo Street were that Luke the hobo had taken a liking to Percy, and it was entertaining as fuck to see him chase the postman around the streets. But for now, Percy seemed to have found sanctuary in the form of the God's Corner coffee shop. 

"Morning, Usain Bolt," Leo said, leaning on the counter. The steady press of morning coffee drinkers was gone, and now only old ladies remained, dotted among the small, cosy cafe like flowers on a field. Leo tucked a stray curl behind his ear and grinned, "To what do we owe this wonderful visit?"

"Don't start, Leo," Percy was out of breath as he sat down in a free chair. Leo saw the Lone Wolf stop at the door for a second, and then he was running off again. Leo snorted - he was arguable the weirdest person on Argo Street, still, Leo couldn't help but feel that the man was lonely. He could relate to that. 

"Hey, he just wants to have a chat," Leo told Percy as he turned around and started preparing the hot chocolate that Percy always ordered, "and maybe touch your ass. Who knows."

Percy groaned. Piper re-appeared at the counter from the bathroom where Leo knew she puking up last night's digested alcohol. She obviously heard Leo's remark because she smacked him upside the head, the way a younger sister might hit a brother. 

"Oh leave him alone!" she shook her head, "Really Perce, maybe we should call the police."

"We can't!" Leo protested, waving his arms around. His heart clenched. _No police!_ he wanted to scream, "He's our street mascot!" he said quickly. 

"It's alright," Percy agreed, "It's not like he's hurting me or anything. I think he's just lonely."

"Does he even have a house?" Leo wondered, relaxing at the change of topic. His thoughts drifted to the hobo...Leo couldn't imagine being all alone, without a warm bed to sleep in or food to eat. Luke always seemed to cheerful, but the Latino wondered if there was more to him than that...there had to be. Piper took the hot chocolates Leo just made and gave one to Ms Gaia (who looked ready to fall asleep) and the other one to Percy. 

"No, Leo," Piper rolled her eyes at her friend, "That's the whole point of being hopeless!"

"Jeez, I know, sorry princess," Leo stuck his tongue out at Piper. She flicked his forehead, "Ouch! You bitch!"

"Language," Piper complained, though she was grinning. 

"I'm sorry," Chiron rolled into the shop on his wheelchair, cutting the pair off. Leo looked away guiltily, like a child being scolded in class. He knew that he and Piper weren't the ideal workers, and yet Chiron still put up with their shit. It made Leo feel bad for constantly lazing around, "I didn't realise this was the breakfast club."

"Sorry boss," the Latino said sheepishly as Piper hurried to stand next to him behind the counter.

"Good morning, Percy," Chiron smiled warmly at the client. 

"Morning, Mr Chiron," Percy finished his drink and got up. Chiron gave Piper and Leo a pointed look and then wheeled himself into the kitchen, "Thanks for the drink. I'll see you guys later." 

Leo watched him go out into the crisp morning, and then he sighed and buried his head in his arms. God, his head hurt like a bitch. 

"Too much alcohol?" one of the old ladies offered sympathetically, patting Leo's arm on the way to the door. Leo glared after her, thinking,  _smug old raisin._

*** 

Beckendorf sighed and looked down at Piper and Leo, who were sitting by their door and looking up at him miserably.

"How long have you two idiots been out here?"

"An hour," Leo said sulkily. At least he was pretty sure it was an hour, because his phone was dead and he couldn't feel his ass anymore. He wasn't even surprised that he and Pipes both forgot their keys, afterall everybody pretty much knew that they weren't fit for adult life. They were constantly late, drunk like some crazy high school kids and lived off of pot noodles and microwavable meals. They needed constant supervision. Thank God they at least had enough sense to give their spare key to Beckendorf, who lived a floor below. 

Now the man shook his head fondly and stepped over the two so he could unlock their door for them,

"You could've called," he told them as Leo and Piper struggled to their feet, groaning at the stiffness in their limbs,

"My phone's dead," Leo grumbled,

"I left mine on the couch," Piper added, "Thanks Beck, you're the best," she kissed the mans cheek and stumbled into their flat. 

"I'm not gonna kiss you but thanks anyway," Leo said solemnly as he slipped in after his friend, closing the door. He was exhausted and all he wanted right now was a warm shower and his bed, not necessarily in that order. He heard Piper rummaging in the kitchen but the boy just dragged himself straight to his room. Compared to the rest of the flat which was relatively clean, Leo's room was a fucking mess. There was a pile of clothes in one corner, and he had no idea if they were clean or dirty. Chocolate wrappers, empty cans of coke and half-full coffee cups littered virtually every surface possible, and his desk was just a heap of tangled wires and random pieces of metal. Diagrams for projects were hung up on the walls, alongside posters of Leo's favourite bands. 

Leo collapsed on his unmade bed and let out a happy sigh. Home sweet home. 

But of course he was Leo and he had ADHD, so he couldn't just lay there and enjoy the bit of piece he had. Instead he sat up and reached for his laptop, which was tucked under his bed alongside one stray shoe, a dozen stinky socks and probably a spider's nest. You know the news articles that are all like _Massive, deadly Australian spiders sneak into Europe_? Well, all those spiders were probably living under Leo's bed. The boy lazily logged onto his laptop, nestling back into his mountain of pillows. He clicked on his email and when the page finally loaded he sat up so violently he almost sent his laptop flying. His heart flipped in his chest as he shakily clicked on the email that had just popped up, desperately making sure he wasn't seeing things. His eyes skim-read the email quickly, his whole body jittering with sudden excitement. 

_Dear Mr Valdez,_

_...happy to say you got the job..._

_...£150 a day..._

_...starting Saturday..._

_...duties will include reading, translating..._

_...yours faithfully, Madame Zhang..._

Leo couldn't believe his fucking luck. Actually, he wouldn't call it luck since the whole rest of his life was royally fucking up. See, Leo had a secret, one even Piper didn't know. He was an illegal immigrant. He came with his parents to England from Mexico way back, and now they were both dead and Leo was pretty sure he did not have the right paper work to stay in England. So far he didn't really think much of it - nobody chased him around, and so far he wasn't arrested by the police so nobody really  _knew_ about his past. And Leo wanted it to stay that way, forever if that was possible. 

But of course, that was not the case. 

Dylan was one of Leo's friends at college. He was a nice guy, a bit of a prick really but Leo appreciated that quality in people. Long story short, Dylan found out about Leo's past. He always claimed he could hack into anything, and when Leo asked him to 'prove it,' he pulled up an entire file on the boy. Including the fact that he was not a British citizen. At first he was cool with it, laughing it off. And then came the proposition.

_'Hey, you should marry me. So you don't get deported, you know.'_

At first Leo thought he was kidding, but Dylan became more and more persistent, and it really creeped Leo out. He was  _not_ about to marry some random guy, so of course he said no. Then came the threats and the blackmail, and the demands for money, almost like Dylan thought that by sucking Leo dry of cash he'd become dependent on him. Well, sucks to be him because Leo found a job and a roommate, and sent him the stupid money, keeping his mouth shut about the whole situation. It wasn't like he could do anything about it! He was in England illegally, and the police would deport him first before prosecuting Dylan for blackmail.  

But things were getting worse. Leo didn't see Dylan anymore, but the boy texted him all the time, and his demands for money were getting higher and higher. Leo had to buy food, pay rent, go out with his friends to keep up appearances, but he couldn't do that with the ridiculous amount of money Dylan wanted from him. That's why he applied for the stupid job. One of his online friends from Lithuania sent it to him after Leo mentioned that he desperately needed cash.

It seemed like the dream job. Madame Zhang was a rich, elderly woman who needed someone to help her out around the house, do gardening, shopping, read her letters and write emails for her, and just overall keep her company. And the money she offered for it was  _insane._ Of course Leo didn't actually think he'd get the job - that's why the email made him grin like a child on Christmas morning. 

With that kind of money, his secret would be safe for-fucking-ever. 


	20. Act 4, Scene 2

** **

**LEO**

He stared up at the looming mansion with big eyes. Thank God that Piper went to the pub so Leo didn't have to explain his disappearance to her, but he doubted she would have believed him anyway. Who knew that a short train ride from the beating heart of London, this beautiful, quiet place existed. Leo was unsure about the area at first as he followed his GPS through a maze of ruddy bricked blocks, but when he crossed a small park he found himself in a completely different world. 

Surrounded by oak trees that climbed high into the sky, Jupiter Road was like taken out of a Victorian period drama. There were a dozen houses on the street, each different from the next. Leo passed them nervously, feeling strangely out of place next to the mansions with his scraped trainers and rumpled hoodie. The first house he passed had a massive driveway that led up to a building of white brick, with a large veranda overgrown with vines.  _Fleecy,_ read the sign next to the house. Leo moved on quickly and was surprised to see that the house next door to Fleecy, separated only be a hedge, was a lemon-yellow cottage with a thatched roof and a garden overflowing with all kinds of beautiful flowers. This house was called  _Bob's Stars_ which Leo thought was a bit weird. He glanced at his GPS and carried on down the calm street, bathed in late afternoon autumn sunlight. Leo passed by more houses; one that reminded Leo of the globe theatre was  _Long Island,_ another one with a flashy sports car parked in a driveway was  _Strawberry. Delphi_ had all the windows open despite the cold, and  _Westover Hall_ a swimming pool filled with rotten leaves. There were no people in sight. 

The final house on the street stood taller than the rest, three storeys plus an attic. The garden was wild with weeds and trees whose branches interlocked overhead, making a kind of canopy over the little path leading up to the house. It seemed weirdly scary and menacing, especially with the dark windows and triangular roof, so of course it had to be the house that Leo was destined to go into. The Latino swallowed nervously and glanced at the faded sign attached to the rusty gate -  _The Shapeshifter._

Leo hesitated, his hand an inch from the gate. He swallowed again and remembered everything he ever read online - don't talk to strangers, don't go to people's houses if you don't know them, they'll probably put poison in your tea and you'll wake up in a sex dungeon...Leo shivered. At this point he didn't really have a choice - either risk it at the Shapeshifter or let Dylan expose him to the police. 

"Excuse me," the voice startled Leo, "can I help you?"

The street was so quiet, almost dead, that Leo hadn't expected anyone to be outside. And yet a woman stood right on the other side of the gate. She seemed...otherworldly. Her wheat-coloured hair was in a long braid, her brown eyes regarding Leo with a cool curiosity. She wore green dungarees and a straw hat on her head, which made her look like one of the migrant workers from  _Of Mice and Men._

"Yeah, actually," Leo gave the woman his most charming grin, which apparently wasn't charming at all because it made her frown, "I'm looking for one Ms Zhang?"

"Ah," the woman relxed visibly, "You must be the boy she hired to help with Fr...um, her personal things." Leo frowned. He was pretty sure the woman was going to say something else, and then caught herself, but he wasn't about to push it, "My name is Demeter, but you may call me Mrs Demi. I'm the gardener here," she said as she reached out to unlock the gate. It swung open with a creaking sigh and Leo walked in hesitantly. He was scared Mrs Demi would whack him over the head with that fierce looking pitchfork she was holding. 

The gate swung closed behind Leo and there was no backing out now,

"Just go right on up," Mrs Demi said, going back to shovelling dead leaves from the little footpath, "They'll let you in at the door and direct you to Madame Zhang. She's waiting for you."

Mrs Demi made Madame Zhang sound like a damn dragon, but Leo walked down the path anyway. He heard the gardener at his back, whistling softly under her breath. The sun broke through the leaves overhead, making a pattern on the ground that looked like a golden stained glass window. Leo hurried down the path and up the three marble steps leading to the massive front door. He knocked on the lion shaped knocker, feeling pretty awkward about it. He felt like he just stepped into a Mary Shelley novel. 

The door was opened by a tall, dark skinned man with sunglasses on his nose, dressed in an expensive suit. 

"Good afternoon," he said to Leo, with an accent as if English was his second language,

"Er, hi?" Leo offered, "I'm here to-"

"You're Madame Zhang's guest," the man cut him off, "I am aware."

"Riiiight," Leo gave him a weird look. 

"Come in, sir," the man seemed impatient. Leo stepped through the doorway, deciding to just fuck it. This whole encounter was weird and bizarre, but Leo needed the money so he strode confidently right through the dim corridor, until he realised he had no idea where he was going. There was a massive staircase leading up and branching out to hug around the walls, leading up to a second floor. Leo could see dust particles in the little light the gaps between the heavy drapes in the windows let through,

"Er...where am I going again?" Leo turned back to the doorman, who had closed the door and was now standing in the shadows, "Mr..."

"Just Charon's fine," the man said curtly, "Up the stairs, first door on the left."

"Right, thanks...Charon," Leo gave him a thumbs-up and then turned to the stairs. He could feel Charon's eyes burning holes into his back so he hurried up the steps as fast as he could to get out of his direct line of vision. He went left where the stairs branches out and then he stopped. The corridor was as dark as the staircase, the floor lined with a velvety red carpet. There were multiple white-painted doors along the hallway, all closed, and Leo couldn't decide if Charon meant the first doors left from the left staircase or the right. Leo felt a headache coming on from all the decisions he had to make that day. 

"Who the hell are you?" a voice startled Leo for the second time in five minutes and when he turned around he saw a man standing in a shaft of sunlight that fell from the gap between the curtains. He was tall, and muscular, his eyes dark and narrowed. Leo's heart skipped a beat as the man glared him down, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He wore a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, which seemed weird compared to the other stuff the people in Shapeshifter wore. And he was hot, which was weird as well. 

"I could ask you the same thing," Leo fired back. The man raised an unamused eyebrow as Leo tried to figure out how old he was...maybe eighteen or nineteen, not much older than Leo himself.

"This is  _my_ house," the man practically  _growled_ which made the hair on Leo's neck stand up, and not in a completely bad way. 

" _You're_ Madame Zhang?" Leo said sarcastically, "Sorry I didn't realise."

The man scowled like an angry teenager, "I'm Frank, her grandson," he spat, "and I still don't know who the hell you are."

"Leo Valdez," Leo said casually, "Your nan hired me."

The anger melted right off of Frank's face and he blinked at Leo like a deer in the headlights, " _You're_ the guy she hired?"

"I did just tell you that," Leo rolled his eyes.  _Damn, this guy is slow..._

"You're so much...younger, than I expected," Frank muttered, almost to himself. 

"Okay nice chit-chatting with you, bro, but I have a job to do," Leo said, "so could you kindly point me to where I can find my boss?"

"Door on your left," Frank said, and then he turned and left the way he came, disappearing around the bend of the hallway as fast as he could. Leo blinked after him and then turned to the door that his employer was behind. He didn't know what to expect as he knocked.

"Come in," a muffled voice sounded, so Leo did. 

The office was big, ridiculously so, and just as dark as the rest of the house. Bookshelves lined three of the four walls, but apart from them the desk in the middle of the room was the only other piece of furniture. A woman sat behind it, dressed in an old fashioned night gown, her spotted, wrinkled hands interlocked on the neat desk in front of her. Her hair was in a bun, her face a mass of wrinkles and saggy skin. Still, her eyes were surprisingly sharp as they took Leo in, 

"You must be Mr Valdez," she said. 

"Just Leo's fine," Leo said uncertainly. The atmosphere in the office was...overbearing. And depressing, "I...uh...nice day?" he didn't know how to start a conversation with someone as peculiar as Madame Zhang.

"Let's go over your responsibilities, shall we?" Madame Zhang ignored his remark and pulled out a piece of paper from the table. Leo hesitantly came closer and stood in front of her desk, since there was no other chair, "You''ll be here every day, Monday to Sunday from four in the afternoon till nine, correct?" the woman clarified. Leo calculated how much money he'd get weekly for that  _plus_ his cafe money,

"Yes ma'am," he beamed at her.

"On Wednesdays," she said dryly, "you'll be required to help Mrs Demeter in the gardens, as well as help me with whatever I may require of you that day. On Saturdays I enjoy going to tea with my friends, and you will escort me there," she glanced at the paper, "I will also require you to stay the night on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturday is that alright with you?"

The idea of sleeping in  _Shapeshifter_ gave Leo literal chills but he clenched his fists, thought about Dylan's blackmailing, and nodded, "'course ma'am...and what am I supposed to do on the other days?"

"To be discussed," Madame Zhang said in a clipped tone. 

"What should I do today?" Leo asked uncertainly.

"Look around the house, get to know it," Madame Zhang said in a dismissive tone, "You will, of course, get money for your trouble. For now - off you go."

So Leo went, feeling like he just stepped into a fairytale. 

**FRANK**

As soon as he ran into the kid, Frank retreated to his training room. He did  _not_ want to see some random stranger in his house, or talk to him either. He knew what his grandmother was playing at - she didn't need any more help around the house, she had plenty. The reason she hired that Valdez boy was so Frank would make a friend. He  _hated_ that. He didn't need friends, when he got friends...bad things happened. That's why he was on house arrest, that's why he wasn't allowed out of that fucking gate, or the stupid thing on his ankle would alert the police and he'd get arrested again. Frank didn't think his grandmother would survive all of that a second time.

He was a mess, he knew he was. He preferred to hole himself up in a dark room and punch a worn out punching bag instead of going out into the hallway, scared of bumping into the new kid. Still, Frank's brain couldn't help but replay that encounter in his head half a hundred times. The kid was...cute. Okay, Frank could give him that. Frank always had a weak spot for short people with curly hair and a tiny spray of freckles across their noses, and Valdez ticked all of the boxes. Which didn't mean anything. Frank was a convict, a criminal, a prisoner in his own home and Valdez was here to...to what? Be his friend? Did Frank's grandmother actually think that he'd be alright with her buying him friends?

Frank sat in his training room until the light outside dimmed and eventually disappeared. That's when Cat came knocking. Hecate was a maid in the house, doing general cleaning and making sure the laundry and such were done. She had a pet polecat and a dog who slept down in the kitchens, and Frank liked them better than their owner.

"If you're still hiding from that boy, he's gone," Hecate could always read him easily, her dark eyes gleaming in the darkness. 

"I'm not hiding," Frank lied. Hecate rolled her eyes,

"I'm going to bed," she informed Frank, "Your friends are here."

They weren't really 'friends,' more like Frank's associates. This might sound stupid but Frank led a kind of 'Fight club.' Of course, he didn't have a split personality or a crazy mafia cartel, he just couldn't leave the damn house. He used to be a street fighter, but since the streets were off limits, he brought the fights to him. The boy climbed down through the dark, quiet house, listening to the grandfather clock echo through the hallways, and went down into the darkness of the basement.

It would have been terrifying to anyone else, to just plunge into the shadows, but Frank knew this place like the back of his hand. So even in the dark he found his way easily, his heart pounding from excitement of breaking out of the monotony of his life. After passing through a small room where his grandmother kept coal, he found himself in a long, low-ceiling room made of concrete. There used to be all sorts of things down here, mostly boxes, but Frank moved them all out so now the space was empty.

Well, not really empty since it was filled with people. Every Monday to Friday Hecate let them in just after eight, and they all sneaked down to this room in the basement. As Frank entered they all turned to look at him, their eyes dark with violence ready to be released on each other. The crowd parted for Frank, muttering hello's under their breaths. They were in sweatpants or shorts, dangerous looking boys and girls, rough and street-wise. Frank's bunch, Frank's family.

"First fight!" Frank called, ignoring all introductions, his voice echoing back at him from the concrete, "Who's up?!"

"I am," Frank wasn't surprised at the volunteer. Clarisse la Rue was his most notorious, and best fighter. And probably the closest thing to a friend Frank had. They were on the streets together, way before when they were both fourteen and weak. Now they were the best of the best. Clarisse grinned at Frank, her eyes full of challenge, "But only if you'll fight me, Zhang."

Adrenaline rushed through Frank and he felt his blood heat up as the crowd 'ooooh'ed' them, parting to make a circle around them, watching their every movement wit hungry eyes. Frank felt light headed all of a sudden, 

"Oh, it's on," he growled low in his throat as he assumed a defensive position. Clarisse charged at him, and Frank felt alive again. 


	21. Act 4, Scene 3

**LEO**

Thursday passed Leo by in a blink of an eye. He was woken up by a frantic Piper and they ran to work together, the way they usually did. At the cafe Leo did his best to be the most amazing barista he could. He felt a bit like he was betraying God's Corner by getting a second job, but when he told Piper about it guiltily, the girl just beamed at him and said 'That's great, does that mean I get to pay less rent?' Of course Leo didn't tell her about his blackmail situation. He couldn't help but fear that his friends would think of him differently if they found that he was in Britain illegally. And he didn't want that. In Mexico everything was a mess, poverty and crime made kids like Leo go down bad routes. In London Leo created a life for himself, he had a family, a job he loved, and yet Dylan just had to come along and fuck it all up. Piper wasn't thrilled about the fact Leo would be gone for three nights each week, but even she couldn't find arguments against it when she heard how much he was getting paid for it. 

After working his shift in the cafe, Leo jumped onto the cramped train to Jupiter Road. It was a windy, cold day, and yet when Leo approached the gate - now a little bit less scared of the  _Shapeshifter -_ Mrs Demi was in the garden anyway, planting seeds in neat little rows. Charon let Leo in and the evening passed in the blink of an eye, with Leo translating a bunch of Madame Zhang's documents from Spanish, and helping her write some important emails. 

Once you got past the dryness and coldness of the woman, she was a cool person to talk to. She didn't seem impressed by Leo though, and the Latino took it as a personal challenge to make her like him. There was one thing weird about the situation - except the fact that the whole house was full of weird people, and that Leo was being paid like a hooker for writing a bunch of emails - Madame Zhang kept making Leo go get Frank, or tell him something, or deliver a message that would conveniently get the two boys in the same room. The whole evening she spent sending Leo to the library (which was a bigger version of her office, complete with a roaring fireplace and couches straight out of Harry Potter common room), and that's where Frank was,  _pit pattering_ away on his laptop. The guy would only growl and glare at Leo whenever he came in, and the Latino took it as his second challenge to stay the fuck away from him before he got beat up. Still, Madame Zhang seemed relentless in making the boys bump into each other.

And then came Friday, and Leo  _forgot._

Piper dragged him to Olympus right after work, and Leo decided only to stay for half an hour. Afterall he had to get to  _Shapeshifter_ and spend the night there, God knows why. But then Will and Beckendorf and Jason came, and Silena was there too, and Leo was given vodka and yeah, he drank a lot. He didn't drink often, but when he did he drank way too much. He wasn't drunk, or tipsy, but just 'happy' enough to forget all about his work - which was ironic, since he was literally talking about the job.

"...yeah, and Madame Zhang is like your typical crazy cat lady," he said as Will and Jason watched him, amused, "but like...without any cats. She has all these weird people living in the house with her, and they're like butlers and maids and gardeners-"

"Leo, are you sure you didn't take some shrooms again?" Will raised an eyebrow.

"Hey that was  _one_ time!" Leo spluttered, "and I thought they were a snack okay!"

"Are you done screaming about drugs?" Piper snorted into her drink. Leo was about to continue his story when suddenly Nico appeared out of nowhere, smelling like flowers as usual. 

"Hi," the boy said as he sat down next to Jason, who suddenly looked like he stimulation wanted to serenade him and puke on his shoes. It was a funny expression but Leo didn't pay it much attention, 

"Nico," Leo's head swam pleasantly, "Let me tell you about my sugar-mommy!" Of course Madame Zhang _actually_  wasn't his sugar-mommy, but it sounded funny when Leo called her that. The idea of having sex with her seriously grossed him out though. Frank on the other hand...

"No," Will groaned, "Please I don't want to hear about it again!"

Nico gave Leo a weird look, "Leo, you go yourself a sugar-mommy?!" he demanded.

"Technically. Kinda. Don't sweat it brother," Leo sipped more of his alcoholic drink, which made it hard to put his thoughts together, "She doesn't pay me for sex, I'm not into Milfs..."

Another interruption came in the form of red-caped Percy, who grinned at them as he pushed past the people crowding Olympus. 

"Hey you lot," he greeted them and squished in next to Leo, making his hip jut into Piper's, "What's going on?"

"We're waiting for Mike to get off so we can discuss the partaaaay," Leo laughed. He kept forgetting about the party...oh man, he was going to get so smashed at that...it was his second Christmas Party at Argo Street, but at the previous one he had been seventeen and not allowed to drink. Michael the barman came to their table, a notepad in his hand, 

"Nico, Percy," he nodded at the two late arrivals. Something started bugging Leo, and he thought that he must've forgotten something important...thing was, he couldn't remember what, "Drinks?"

"I'll have vodka with lemonade," Percy said, "The blue one, yeah?"

Mike rolled his eyes fondly, "Sure man. Nico?"

"Coke," Nico mumbled quietly. Bless the shy kid. 

"At least not water like Silena," Mike nodded and melted back into the crowd. Leo took that chance to jump back into his exciting story. He directed his words at Percy, filling him in quickly and talking over the general noise of the bar,

"So this old lady over the internet needs care, so I was like okay. And she's rich. Like Kardashian rich. Crystal lamps and all the shebang," of course Leo didn't mention the dust and the darkness of the house, or how creepy it was, "She's kinda scary but not like The Visit scary so I'm not bothered. But her grandson-"

"I'm sorry I still can't comprehend the fact where you told us you got a sugar mommy," Percy was looking at Leo with wide eyes full of disbelief. Their drinks arrived. 

"Keep up, fishy," Leo sighed. Why did he feel like they weren't taking him seriously? "Anyway she wants me to move into her mansion-"

"This ass-hole wants to leave me," Piper sighed - which wasn't true. Well...kind of, Leo would be gone most of the time but that didn't mean he was _moving out_ , "Can you believe it?"

"Look Pipes," Leo put his hand on her shoulder and grinned, "we just aren't working out. It's not you - it's me," he joked, earning himself a smack from the girl.

"Speaking of sugar mommies," Will interrupted their banter, "Do you know who needs one?"

"Luke the hobo?" Leo asked innocently, sipping his alcohol through a straw. He made sure to look at Percy when he said the next part, because he had a sneaking suspicion that something weird was going on between him and the Lone Wolf, "Maybe he'd have enough money to finally take a shower." 

Just like Leo suspected, Percy went bright red, "Hey," he protested, "He doesn't smell that bad! He's alright actually..."

He trailed off as everyone stared at him. Leo hid his smile in his drink. Bingo. 

"Percy are you feeling okay?" Piper spluttered eventually. Percy just blushed harder, "Did the Wolf finally catch you and brainwash you?"

"Forget it," he grumbled, "You guys don't get it."

Leo was scared that he _did_ get it. Percy was attracted to the mystery around Luke, and the danger, as was Leo with Frank. Thing was, Leo was not planning on talking to Frank  _ever,_ it was purely a physical thing (the guy was hot okay?!) but he still wanted to see the outcome of this dangerous game. If something came out of Luke and Percy, well, who knew...maybe Leo's curiosity would be sated and he wouldn't want to flirt with Frank just to see what would happen. 

"We're back," Silena said as her and Beckendorf walked over, holding hands. They looked just like the cutest couple of the year and it kind of made Leo want to barf, but in a good way. 

"Thanks for finally joining us," Will winked at them suggestively even though they weren't doing anything more than just kissing. Leo frowned as something nudged at his alcohol induced brain. He was forgetting something really important...

"Sorry, we were, erm...," Beckendorf cleared his throat, breaking Leo out of his muddled thoughts, "Pre-occupied."

"We saw," Leo muttered in disgust. Silena giggled and kissed her boyfriend's cheek. Leo rolled his eyes at the obvious PDA but didn't say anything more as his brain tried to wire all his nerves back together and remember what the hell he was meant to be doing. 

Jas?" Nico sounded concerned as he frowned at Jason, who had been staring without anyone realising, "You okay?"

"Sure," Jason smiled at the smaller boy, "Perfectly fine."

" _Fuck_ ," Leo whispered faintly as he felt a metaphorical light-bulb flicker on above his head. It was Friday.  _Friday._ Friday and Leo was not meant to be getting increasingly drunk at the pub with his friends, but he was meant to be...dread filled his heart when he realised he might have just let the opportunity of his life slip through his fingers. He glanced at the clock. It was coming up to ten, and Leo was supposed to be at the  _Shapeshifter_ hours ago...

"Leo?" Piper frowned at him, "What is it?"

"Someone better call me a fucking Uber."

**FRANK**

If it was down to him, Frank would've just let him stay outside the gate. It was ten fucking thirty at night and the Valdez kid was over seven hours late. Frank would have gladly seen him lose the job and yet...even with the money Valdez already got from Frank's grandmother, he looked like he didn't spend it on pointless shit. When Frank stared out of the window at him, pacing outside nervously, he saw that the boy had on the same scruffy hoodie and old trainers as before. Which made Frank think that he didn't spend the money clothes - which meant he needed the job, and that's why Frank went to let him in. 

That, and because he felt sorry for the kid. It was pretty damn cold and the boy didn't even have a coat, and he was pacing outside the gate like a lost sheep.

"You're late," Frank growled as he stepped outside and strode toward the boy, ignoring the cold biting at him, "you're so damn late."

Leo's eyes widened when he saw Frank, "I-I...I'm sorry...I-I..."

Frank opened the creaky old gate but blocked the entrance with his body, glowering down at Valdez, "Why exactly are you so late? We should fire you."

The boy looked down at his feet and swallowed hard. His cheeks were flushed and Frank could swear he could smell alcohol,

"I forgot," Valdez mumbled. Frank blinked, surprised that he didn't make up some stupid excuse that Frank wouldn't have believed anyway, "I'm s-sorry," the kid's voice cracked. His pale hands were red from the cold, and shaking. Frank's heart melted just a little bit. He looked past Valdez onto the street lit with street lamps - two more steps and his ankle monitor would start beeping. Frank's hand clenched on the iron gate,

"Come in," he said, "before you get sick."

He should've been more mad than that - afterall he had to cancel the fighting for the night because his grandmother couldn't fall asleep and was pacing around the house like some ghost. That was her thing, and that's why she wanted Valdez in the house on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays.

"The reason why my grandmother wants you here," Frank said with a sigh as he and Valdez walked up the path to the house, "Is because those are the nights that our other workers get off. She gets...uneasy, with just me in the house."

"Why?" Valdez frowned at him. He had really big eyes, which made him look a bit like a forest elf, "You're like...four times my size."

Frank shrugged, "There was a break in a few years back...some men held her at knife point. She was alone in the house with me, and I was just a kid at the time. She doesn't like when it's just us two, that's why she keeps so many people around. That's why she wanted to hire someone extra who could stay at the house when the others were off."

"It's not like I could do anything," Valdez cleared his throat, "If anything happened."

"It just makes her feel better, okay?" Frank snapped. He did not want to be having this conversation with Valdez. He just wanted the Latino to go to his room and leave Frank alone to brood. But of course, he couldn't do that. Instead, he locked the doors of the house, and then led Valdez upstairs. Frank's Grandmother was sitting by the fire in the living groom, which was dominated by a beautiful, old piano, dressed in her silky nightgown. She rose from the couch when she saw the boys come in,

"Mr Valdez," her mouth was in a tight line. Frank hid his smirk as the Latino approached her nervously, ready to hear the boy get roasted.

"I'm sorry," Valdez said, which made Frank's grandmother blink at him in surprise, "I know I'm late, like hella late, and yeah it's my fault I'm not gonna pretend it's not. But," he spread his arms out as if he wanted to hug the woman, "I'm here now, and I'm super sorry, and I can work tonight for free. Just please," his arms dropped as did his shoulders. He gave Frank's grandmother such a look that even Frank's own heart gave a little twist, "don't fire me. I will work really hard, and I won't be late again, just...," the boy bit his lip. Frank's grandmother straightened up, and Frank could see her eyes softening, 

"Don't let it happen again, Mr Valdez," she said stiffly, "Goodnight now. Grandson," she inclined her head at Frank and then floated out of the room. Frank couldn't fucking believe it! Valdez got away with it...he turned to the boy to have a go at him, but saw that Leo was staring at his feet, his shoulders slumped. The anger evaporated from Frank in an instant. Valdez looked like a kicked puppy,

"Do you have pyjamas?" he asked with a sigh, "or a toothbrush? Or  _anything_?"

"No," Valdez mumbled, "But I can sleep naked-"

"Oh hell no!" Frank felt his face heat up. His family's employees had the bad habit of walking into rooms without knocking and he was  _not_ about to hear screaming from them about a naked boy laying in one of the beds, "I'll give you something of mine you unorganised child," Frank shook his head, "just come with me."

*** 

Twenty minutes later Frank was somehow even more uncomfortable. Cat and Hestia, the cook, came in earlier and prepared an unused guest room for Leo. Most of the rooms in the mansion were closed as not enough people lived in the house for all of them to be used. But now there was a fire in the fireplace, since Frank's grandmother didn't believe in central heating, and fresh blankets on the massive king sized bed. The drapes that Grandmother Zhang insisted on having in every window were firmly pulled shut. 

Leo was standing on the bed, his arm extended over his head, trying to catch some signal on his phone. He was in a pair of Frank's boxers, which were like shorts on him and were too big, riding dangerously low on the boy's tanned hips. The smallest shirt that Frank could find was still too big on Valdez, but with his arm extended it hitched up and revealed his smooth, slim stomach. 

Frank felt uncomfortably warm, and knew he was blushing. He was just so used to everything, afterall he was stuck in the house for six months and not allowed to leave. He spent his time alone or with the people who lived in Shapeshifter, or with his fight friends. Valdez came and changed all of that, and now he looked right at home, dressed in Frank's clothes and standing on the bed that was meant to be his for God knows how long.

"There's no bloody signal," the Latino complained loudly.

"You have to go down to the library for that," Frank informed him. Valdez shuddered violently,

"And risk something jumping out at me in those dark corridors? Hell no."

"What do you need signal for now anyway?" Frank asked sourly. He had no idea why he was  _still_ in Valdez's room - the boy already had all the shit he needed and there was no need for Frank to stay with him. And yet he hesitated anyway, maybe because Valdez intrigued him the tiniest bit and Frank was glad for it. 

"I need to text Piper," the Latino sighed as if Frank knew who the fuck 'Piper' was. He felt his insides twist in disappointment,

"Your girlfriend can wait," he hadn't meant to snap but Frank was always shit at controlling his emotions. Valdez snorted as if Frank said something funny and lowered his arm, 

"She's my housemate," the boy's eyes gleamed as he grinned at Frank like a Cheshire cat, "Don't get jealous." Frank felt himself flush so he scoffed,

"I'm going to bed."

"What's that thing on your ankle?" Valdez said immediately, as if the question had been bubbling up in him. Frank winced, but didn't get to reply, "It's an ankle brace, right?" Valdez slid off of the bed and stared at the ugly thing around Frank's ankle, "You're on house arrest, right?" his chocolatey eyes snapped up to look at Frank's. Normally when someone mentioned the brace Frank got royally pissed off, because he felt like they were judging and accusing him all over again. But Valdez didn't make him feel that, he made him feel...well, it was weird to explain but Frank didn't feel like punching his teeth in which was new. The guy just looked genuinely curious,

"Two months and the thing comes off," Frank said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I could take it off earlier if you want," Valdez said, almost innocently. Frank gaped at him and the boy offered him a somewhat sheepish grin, "I went to a mechanic school - got kicked out though. I know some stuff...about machines and stuff. I know how those ankle braces work, and how to take them off without the police realising-"

"What the  _hell_?"  _Now_ Frank was angry. He advanced on Valdez, feeling his familiar fury burn inside him. Valdez looked at him with wide eyes and backed up. Frank could fucking snap him in two if he wanted, "Do you want me to go to prison?! Do  _you_ want to go to prison?"

A shadow passed over Valdez's face, and it made Frank's stomach twist. The Latino's eyes darkened, "No." 

The two stared at each other for a minute, and slowly the tension eased out of Frank and he could think clearly again. He inhaled deeply,

"I'm going to bed," he repeated. Valdez let him get as far as the door before he fired his next question,

"Do you have a girlfriend?" 

The question was so weird and out of place that Frank almost laughed. Instead he opted to glare at Valdez over his shoulder. The boy looked helplessly small in the giant room. 

"Goodnight, Valdez," Frank turned to the door, unable to wait to put the weird encounter behind them.

"W-Wait!" Valdez called. Frank groaned in frustration and turned around, feeling a headache come on,

" _What_?!" he demanded as Valdez bit his lip (it was kind of attractive actually), "Do you really want to play twenty one questions in the middle of the damn night?"

Valdez shifted nervously, "This room's creepy."

"It's  _fine_ ," Frank sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and trying to remember if someone died in this room _specifically._  When he looked at Valdez again, the boy's face was bright red,

"Could you...um," he swallowed nervously, "Sleep in here?"

Frank frowned, "What are you offering?"

Leo's eyes narrowed, "Don't get too excited, I don't want to have sex with _you,"_ he stated bluntly.

"I-I wasn't thinking that!" Frank spluttered, blood rushing to his face, "I'm not into skinny little shits!" he lied because he was  _totally_ into Valdez, skinny little shit or not. The Latino curled his hands into fists,

"You're not my type either!" he snapped, and that kind of hurt and pissed Frank off more, "That's besides the point! I'm scared of sleeping in this creepy mansion all by myself! What if something comes in through the window?!"

"You're such a child," Frank groaned and left the room. 

When he came back, armed with his pillows and blankets, Valdez was just a tiny lump under the blankets. The bed seemed to swallow him whole but he sat up when Frank shut the door, his eyes wide,

"I thought-" he started but Frank interrupted him angrily,

"Move up," he snapped, dumping his own blankets on top of Leo, "It gets really cold so you better not take my damn covers," Valdez scooted to the far end of the massive bed, still watching Frank in shock as if he hadn't actually expected him to stay in his room. Frank couldn't help  but notice that the light from the fire made him look a little bit like an angel, with his tousled curls and wide, brown eyes. Frank ignored the twisting in his stomach as he slid under his covers. He glared at Valdez, "If your small toe so much as touches me I'll punch you with a cactus," he warned. 

Valdez sent him a small grin, "Gotcha, boss," he said as he wrapped himself up in his own blankets. He, of course, had to be a little shit though, because it was in his fucking job description. Instead of closing his eyes and going to sleep like a normal human being, Valdez stared at Frank from his little cocoon. Frank felt his eye twitch in irritation as the boy studied his face,

"I will poke your eyeballs out," he growled. It just made Valdez's grin grow. The heat in Frank's stomach was getting pretty unbearable so he turned away from this random, irritating, infatuating boy, and tried to fall asleep. 


	22. Act 4, Scene 4

** **

**LEO**

He woke up earlier than usual in the dark room with just faint light falling in through the window, and with the bed empty. Leo tried not to be disappointed at the fact that Frank was gone, but he still felt sad as he dressed and collected his stuff. At the last moment he went up to the window and pulled the heavy drapes open, bathing the room in a watery grey light. Madame Zhang informed him the day before that he was free to leave in the morning to go to his other job as long as he came back at four in the afternoon sharp. So now Leo crept through the seemingly empty house, covered in a blanket of silence, feeling like he was doing the walk of shame. 

Leo didn't like the fact that all the windows had closed curtains over them - it gave the house a murky, sad atmosphere that could be easily avoided. Still, Leo was not an interior designer and he was not in Shapeshifter to re-decorate so he just blindly found his way down the stairs in the dimness. Surprisingly, Charon wasn't standing by the door so Leo awkwardly walked to them. He felt like he should inform someone that he was leaving, but there was nobody around. It felt like a ghost house.

"Leo Valdez, right?"

Leo jumped. Christ what was with people in this house and creeping up on him?! With a hand on his pounding heart Leo turned around, and found himself face to face with a woman dressed all in black, with a basket of laundry in her arms. She was looking at him curiously,

"Yeah," Leo blinked at her, "That's me, the one and only."

She smiled, and it had a predatory gleam to it, "I'm Hecate, the maid. You can call me Cat...there's breakfast in the kitchen if you want some."

Leo glanced at his phone nervously, "Thanks for the offer but I have to run," he offered her a grin, "places to be you know."

"Oh I know," Cat said airily, "I hope you did the bed," she added and then walked off. Leo gulped - he most definitely did not do the bed.

"I'm...I'm gonna go now!" he called after the woman, but she already disappeared down a gloomy corridor. Leo sighed and slipped outside into the cool, breezy morning, hoping the train wouldn't be too packed. To his surprise Charon was standing next to a black SUV, his sunglasses in place on his nose. He was in the same crisp, expensive suit as before.

"Hey there! Charon!" Leo grinned like he was greeting an old friend. Charon regarded him coolly,

"I have been instructed to drive you to your other job, Mr Valdez," he said, gesturing at the car. Leo blinked at him, baffled, "Please go in," Charon said impatiently. Leo didn't have to be told twice - right now he'd do anything to avoid rush hour.

"Do I get the aux cord?" the Latino asked excitedly, like a child, as he did his seat-belt up. Charon started the car,

"No," he said simply and Leo's grin dropped. 

*** 

It was a long and hard day at work, and Leo was glad to finally be home. He and Piper were sitting on their couch Indian-style, a tray of cake between them. They dug into the desert with table spoons hungrily, needing to restore their sugar levels. It was late, and outside the night peeked at them shyly. Leo was in his favorite sweatpants and the shit he totally didn't steal from Frank, his hair pulled back from his face. Despite the fact that he was glad to be home, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening at the Shapeshifter.

"...so yeah like a complete child," Leo was concluding his story as he shoved more cake into his mouth, "I asked the guy to sleep with me."

" _Leo_ ," Piper said in disapproval, but she was grinning, "He could have taken it the wrong way."

"Hey," Leo protested and jabbed at Piper with his spoon. The girl giggled, "I am a respectable young man, okay! Besides, I think Frank got the idea because he slept with me.  _Just_ slept, Pipes."

"And you don't like him, huh?" Piper wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Leo stuck his tongue out at her,

"What did you do when my fine ass was gone?" he asked.

"Went down to Mike's," the girl shrugged her skinny, tanned shoulders, "He was telling me about that blonde guy that keeps coming 'round."

"What guy?" Leo frowned,

"Octavian or something," she shrugged and then sighed in melancholy, "You're all leaving me. I'm gonna become an old cat lady."

"Like Madame Zhang?" Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but with actual cats," Piper's shoulders slumped, "Jason and Nico are practically all over each other, Silena and Beckendorf are together, Mike has this new Octavian kid, you have Frank, Percy's running around with the Lone Wolf...," she sighed dramatically, "I'm left with Will."

"It's not that bad," Leo grinned, "At least he's hot," then his smile softened and he took his friend's hand, "Hey, Pipes, you'll find someone. Besides, you're a strong independent woman and you don't need no man," Piper's eyes twinkled with amusement and she squeezed Leo's hand, "and I'm always here for you. I'm your best friend, and I will be forever amen, so you're stuck with me."

"Great," Piper sighed, and then grinned. Leo pulled her into a hug. For a moment he was really, really happy - things were finally looking up and if Leo was alone forever at least he'd have Piper, and Piper would have him. Leo wanted to apologise suddenly, for leaving her, for keeping things from her, for not being the best person he could...Piper probably had her own issues and Leo didn't even have time to sit down and talk anymore. He was a shitty friend.

"Love you, Pipes," he said instead, squeezing Piper. She laughed,

"Don't go sentimental on me, Leo," she ruffled his hair and pulled away, smiling, "but love you too, Leo, love you too."

***

A week later the people at the Shapeshifter were slowly warming up to Leo. Demeter smiled at him every-time he popped up outside the gate, and opened it with no hesitation. Charon let Leo play his stupid indie music when he drove him to work after he slept over. Since that one time when he helped Hecate put up the laundry, the woman ruffled his hair every time she saw him in the corridor. Hestia, the kind, warm cook would force-feed him pancakes or bacon or whatever other goodies she was making whenever she saw Leo as much as hurry past the kitchen. Even Grandmother Zhang didn't look down at Leo with as much disapproval anymore, and her eyes would twinkle whenever he made a pun during their e-mail writing sessions. 

The old woman also told Leo all about her life. When she was in her forties she moved to Canada with her teenage daughter - Frank's mother. When she grew up she met a man. It didn't last long but Frank came out of the equation, and when he turned three his mother left him with his grandmother and joined the army. After she was killed fighting, Madame Zhang moved to London with Frank, who barely remembered his mum. At least that was what Leo pieced from the clipped answers the woman gave him over the days. 

Then there was Frank. 

Leo's feelings about him were...complicated. On one hand Frank was always moody and threatened Leo practically every time he saw him. On the other there was an underlying kindness to him, and he always made sure that Leo was comfortable, and safe. It was heart warming, but confusing at the same time. Leo couldn't really talk to his friends about these weird feelings because they all seemed to be having their own heart dilemmas. From the gossip that Hestia and Cat gave him, Leo figured that six months back Frank had an incident at some club he run, where he hurt some guy, really badly. The women didn't really know the details, and told Leo that Frank got pissed off if he was asked about it, so Leo just simply didn't ask.

***

"Please go to sleep," Frank sighed again, even though he didn't seem sleepy. He just seemed...antsy. Leo sighed,

"It's the new Game of Thrones episode," he grumbled, pulling one of his earphones out. The only light in the room came from the blue-ish glow of his laptop, and it made everything seem eerie, "Daenerys is about to wreck the Dosh Khaleen."

"Just watch it tomorrow," Frank sighed. Leo frowned,

"I wanna watch it now."

"Well I can't sleep with the thing blinding me," Frank glared at the screen.

"Just keep your eyes closed," Leo sighed, "that's the  _point_ of sleeping - you pretend to sleep until eventually you do it-"

Frank sat up abruptly and slammed Leo's laptop shut, drowning the room in sudden darkness. Leo's breath caught in his throat as he felt Frank's chest brush against his, his face dangerously close to Leo's. The boy swallowed and exhaled nervously, feeling Frank's heat brushing against him in the dark, his smell enveloping Leo. God, he smelled good. Frank's breath brushed against his cheek and for a second they were just inches apart.

"Go to sleep," the man whispered hoarsely and a shot of heat went through Leo. He thought about what it would be like to just push himself forward a few inches and kiss Frank, to feel his hands on him in the dark. The hair on his arms stood up and his stomach twisted, and then Frank pulled away and plopped down on the pillows. Leo's heart was hammering and in the pale moonlight falling in through the windows, which Leo demanded were kept without curtains pulled over them, he saw the muscles on Frank's back move restlessly.

Leo wrapped himself up in his blankets, his back to Frank, shivering. The heat that suddenly pooled inside him was growing instead of decreasing and the Latino squeezed his eyes shut, desperately willing the arousal to go away. He couldn't slip away into the bathroom - that would be too obvious, and to do it with Frank so close by...Leo bit his lip and stayed still for agonisingly long minutes as his cock grew hard in his pyjama shorts. He wondered what Frank would do if Leo just turned around and kissed him, and pulled him on top of him. He'd probably push the Latino away and kick him out of the Shapeshifter, that was pretty obvious. And yet Leo couldn't help but think of a different outcome...

Hesitantly, his hand slid into his boxers. When his hand wrapper around his achingly hard cock, Leo had to slap his free hand over his mouth to stop a moan spilling from his lips. The heat inside him grew as he worked himself, hard and desperate, wanting to get it over and done with before Frank realised. Leo squeezed his eyes shut again and his treacherous mind went down a path that he had been desperate to avoid. He thought about Frank pressing himself against Leo's back, his hand pushing Leo's smaller one out of the way to finish the job himself. He imagined the boy kissing him, holding him, fucking him, and with a quiet whimper into the pillow Leo was coming faster that he had since he was thirteen. 

After the shock and bliss passed, Leo pulled his hand out of his pants, feeling embarrassed.  _What if Frank heard?_ He panicked a little bit, and he didn't know how long passed with him praying that Frank was asleep. But of course he wasn't. Leo felt the bed shift after what seemed like half an hour, and his heart flipped as Frank stood up, obviously trying not to jostle Leo. The Latino held his breath as he heard Frank creep across the room, and then slip out. Only then Leo turned around, and found the bed empty and the room shrouded in darkness. Royally creeped out at being left alone, Leo picked up his sweatpants off of the floor and slipped them on, before venturing out in the corridor after Frank.

The Shapeshifter was dark and silent, and Leo was properly scared now. He decided to go to the downstairs bathroom and wash his hands, and by then hopefully Frank would be back from wherever the fuck he just went. After a few minutes of stumbling around in the light of his phone and trying to find the stairs, Leo finally made it to the ground floor. He washed his hands for way longer than he had to, and finally gathering up his courage, went back out into the corridor.

He felt like someone was watching him, and it made him want to scream for Frank. It wasn't his fault that he watched so many damn horror movies! With his heart pounding, Leo made for the stairs, forcing himself to not run. The hallways seemed a lot creepier than his room, and Leo just wanted to be wrapped up in his blankets again, safe from the shadows in the corridors. He made it to the bottom of the steps, when he heard it.

At first Leo almost had a heart attack because he heard  _voices._ They were muffled, barely-there, but sounded excited and angry, as if someone was shouting somewhere far away. Leo's first thought was  _ghosts._ But as he listened in, he realised the voices were coming from below - from the basement. See, Leo should've just gone back to bed because curiosity is what killed the cat.

But satisfaction bought it back. With his phone light on and his heart on his shoulder, Leo found the small door leading down to the basement. When he opened it, the voices grew louder and Leo realised that they were human voices, and shouts, and yells, all muffled. The steps were drowned in darkness and Leo gulped as he looked down. He didn't know what the hell was happening in the basement (an orgy?) but he desperately wanted to find out. 

He ventured down into the darkness, half expecting some possessed little girl to come at him any moment. Instead he just found a room filled with coal, and there was a sudden light in his eyes, making Leo stumble back, his stomach flipping with nausea. He was  _terrified._

"Who the fuck are you?" a voice scoffed. Leo blinked at the bright light, shielding his eyes, and saw a man who looked like a tank glaring down at him suspiciously. He had a healing bruise on his jaw, yellow and green. 

"Er...Leo?" the Latino offered nervously, his heartbeat slowing down. _It was just another kid,_ "I kinda...live here?"

"You're too scrawny for the club," the man growled, "Fuck off," Leo glared,

"Hey  _rude_! I don't wanna join your dumb club anyway," the Latino had no idea what the 'club' even was, "I'm just here because of all the noise you all are making."

He could hear it clearly now - shouts of encouragement, and roars of excitement, from just the next room over. It sounded a bit like the men who watched the matches in Mike's pub. There were also the sound of hits and grunts and groans, and something falling over, and laughter. Leo tried to peer around the tank-man and suddenly there was a hand around his throat and he was getting slammed against the wall, his ears ringing. 

"I said  _fuck off,_ " the man growled, his face close to Leo's. The boy felt panic flare inside his chest - the man was easily holding him up, his feet dangling above ground. He had trouble breathing. He tried to kick the guy, but he couldn't reach. But suddenly the guy was being pulled off of him and Leo crumpled to the floor, his vision clearing, his lungs aching. The whole ordeal lasted just a few seconds, but Leo had never been more terrified.

"Sherman what the fuck?!" Frank demanded, standing taller than the tank-guy and glowering down at him. Leo was never more glad to see him. The other man - Sherman - looked sheepish,

"Sorry Frank he just wandered in-"

"Did you hurt him?!" Frank's hand twisted in Sherman's shirt and he in turn slammed him into the wall, a lot harder then Sherman slammed Leo, "I told you, you're not allowed to touch anyone who lives in my fucking house."

"I-I didn't know," Sherman croaked, "I'm s-sorry I didn't know who he was-"

Leo stared at the two with wide eyes. Frank looked  _furious,_ his eyes all dark, his voice more a growl than anything else. The man must've noticed Leo staring because he flushed and let Sherman go,

"Go join the fight," Frank spat and Sherman didn't have to be told twice as he scurried away. Leo shakily stood up, rubbing his throat. Frank whirled on him, 

"What the  _hell_ Valdez?" he snapped at the Latino, but he sounded more worried than angry. Leo blinked at him,

"I heard voices."

"Why are you down here?" Frank rubbed the bridge of his nose. A sudden cheer went up in the room next door, "Look, go back to bed-"

"Is this like a fight club?" Leo demanded, feeling excitement bubble up inside of him. Frank sighed,

"Kind of...," he winced, "Not really...I don't know. It's just some people I know training in there."

"I...," judging by the size of Frank and Sherman the next question was probably stupid, but Leo asked it anyway, "Can I join?"

"You'll just get hurt," Frank shook his head, "I need to go."

"Hey!" Leo protested hotly, "I can hold my own!"

"I...," Frank bit his lip and then sighed in frustration, "Fine. Fine - come on."

As it turned out it was a little bit like fight club, but maybe not as savage. Leo was introduced to a circle of people who were all taller and stronger than him, but didn't seem too bothered by his scrawniness. _'He's kinda cute,'_ a rough-looking girl called Clarisse teased. She then proceeded to break a guy called Mark's nose. He wasn't too bothered, grinning at her as some girl put a tissue to his bleeding face. The Latino was scared he'd be tossed right into the whirlwind of the fighting and get his ass seriously kicked, but instead Frank pulled him to the side as the others fought, and started to teach him the basics, throwing light punches as Leo tried to dodge them. 

"If you want to join you have to at least know how to protect yourself," the man said patiently, "Otherwise you're no good."

Leo didn't know how he even got there, in this weird, secret meeting. 

It was the middle of the night and Leo never felt more awake. 


	23. Act 4, Scene 5

** **

**FRANK**

Before Leo his days were long and dull, spent working out counting down hours and days and weeks until they took his ankle brace off and he'd be free. Nine months, he was sentenced to, and they dragged on mercilessly, as if God was punishing him by slowing down time. Even the club was using the spark it once lit inside of Frank. And then Leo appeared - unpredictable, spastic Leo who didn't want to sleep alone and made Shapeshifter seem more like home and less like prison. 

At first Frank was determined to keep the Latino away from him, he  _fought_ the attraction he felt towards the boy. But it was hard, especially when three nights a week he slept just inches away from him. Maybe Frank was just lonely, but as the days passed, faster now that Leo took up Frank's time and patience, Frank couldn't help but grow attached to him. When he came down to the club...Frank was  _scared._ Leo looked tiny and helpless among his friends, like a child. Frank didn't want him fighting, didn't want him getting hurt.

But it turned out Leo could hold his own. Two weeks passed by faster than Frank expected, and every evening that Leo stayed over, they'd creep downstairs and their night would be filled with training and fighting, with sweat and bruises, and grins. Leo was accepted into the club faster than anyone else who Frank knew. The people loved him, and his sneaky style of fighting. When after a few days Frank reluctantly allowed Leo to go against one of the biggest guys, he was surprised to see the Latino ducking and rolling, punching the guy where it hurt most until he was on the floor, groaning. Leo won that fight with barely a scrape. 

Frank liked watching Leo fight. He'd always tie his hair back into a low bun, but by the end of the night curls would escape and stick to his flushed, sweaty cheeks. His eyes would sparkle and Frank would usher everyone out of the house so he and Leo could drag themselves upstairs and collapse onto the bed, exhausted and aching. Aching for each other. Every night it was harder for Frank to fight his urges - half of him wanted to pull Leo into his arms and kiss his sweaty forehead and hold him close, and the other half wanted to push him down onto the bed and fuck him so hard he forgot his name. 

It was confusing. 

Leo was exhausted, Frank could tell. He was working two jobs and not sleeping at night, and he had dark circles under his eyes (it didn't make him any less attractive). But whenever Frank asked about it, or scolded the boy for not resting enough, Leo would just brush it off. And Frank didn't push because Leo looked  _happy._  He sat with Frank in the library sometimes, and they'd just talk. Frank knew all about Piper, Leo's best friend. He knew about Argo Street and the weirdos who worked and lived there. He heard about the postmen with the red capes, and the three tattoo artists, and the owner of the pub who always gave them free drinks. It sounded magical, like a fairytale. So much freedom.And so two weeks passed like that, in a blur of dimpled grins and curls, and bruises healing on arms and sleeping inches away from each other. Frank though he'd go crazy. Every time he saw Leo he just wanted to push him against the wall and kiss him, and just.. _.ugh,_ it was so frustrating. 

Maybe that's why Frank agreed to fight the Latino, because it was an excuse to touch him, to get close to him. 

"Come on Frank," Clarisse teased one of the nights. Her lip was split from a fight she just had with Chris. Their fight was more sexual than anything else, a lot of pressing close to each other when it wasn't needed, and that had Frank a bit on edge.

"Yeah," Chris was grinning despite his black eye, "He's like your padawan. Now he has to go against his master... _There can only be two,_ " he added dramatically. Frank rolled his eyes,

"Your nerd's coming out, Chris."

People were coming back from the short break, filtering back into the basement. Leo came in with Nyssa Barrera, a hard girl from Spain, and Butch Walker who towered over them both.

"Hey Leo!" Clarisse called, loud enough for everyone else in the room to hear, "Why don't you fight with Frank?!"

A sudden, excited grin grew on Leo's face, " _Yes_! Let's do it!"

"No," Frank said sharply, crossing his arms over his chest to show off his muscle and hopefully scare Leo off. The Latino just eyed him with a gleam in his eye and a smirk,

"Scared?" he teased.

"Yeah, come on Frank," Nyssa sat up on one of the boxes around the room while the others created a circle around Leo and Frank, "Don't be such a killjoy!" Everyone cheered. Leo pulled his hair back from his face. Frank didn't want to fight him. He didn't want to hurt him, Christ he didn't want to hurt him. 

"Come on," Leo's voice was quiet, and challenging, and low. He put himself into a defensive position opposite Frank, " _Fight me_ ," his eyes were fixed on Frank and suddenly he felt like he was on fire. He wanted Leo. Gods, he wanted him so bad. Frank saw red as he charged forward, taking a swing at the Latino, wanted his stupid feelings to just fucking go away. The crowd gasped but Leo ducked and aimed a punch of his own. It grazed Frank's ribs as he turned around and parried sloppily. His mind was wheeling, his body moving on its own accord. 

Leo was like an arrow, he whirled around Frank and the man felt a sting in his jaw when Leo got an upper cut in. With a swift kick Frank cut the legs from underneath the Latino sending him sprawling. The crowd was roaring but it was just white noise in Frank's head as he concentrated on his opponent. Leo swiftly got back to his feet, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark. The two circled around each other, breathless. Frank's heart was hammering, his head spinning. His body was buzzing with adrenaline and when Leo shot at him, Frank easily got him in the gut. The boy doubled over with a groan and the crowd 'ooooh'ed.' Frank felt a sting of guilt and he was about to ask Leo if he was okay, but then the boy went to jab his elbow into Frank's face. On instinct Frank grabbed his wrist and twisted.

He heard a soft  _crack_ and Leo inhaled sharply.

"Oh fuck," Frank whispered as Leo stumbled away from him. His wrist was bent at an awkward angle and the boy stared at it in shock. Frank felt hot guilt and shame coil up inside his stomach, and suddenly he wanted to be sick. The fighters swarmed forward, crowding around Leo. 

"Shit his wrist is broken!"

"Dumbass, it's just twisted!"

"I'm calling the ambulance!"

"Sit still, idiot!"

Leo angrily pushed through the crowd and Frank looked at him horrified, helpless. The red mist in his eyes was slowly dispersing. Someone tied a spare bandage around Leo's wrist and now the boy cradled it to his chest, his face pale, mouth tight with pain.

"It's fine," he croaked at Frank. The boy shook his head, feeling like shit,

"Christ, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"It's alright," Leo tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace, "It was a fair fight."

Frank didn't want to fight him. 

"I'm taking you to the hospital," he said. Leo's eyes widened,

"Frank you can't! Your brace-"

"I don't care!" Frank was done with his stupid ankle brace and his stupid house arrest. He was taking Leo to the hospital.

**LEO**

At first it didn't hurt. And then suddenly it did. Nausea hit Leo in waves alongside the pain, as heat crawled from his wrist and spread through the rest of his body. Frank called Charon so the man could come take care of his grandma when he was in hospital. Clarisse kicked everyone out of the Shapeshifter and then waited with Frank and Leo until the ambulance came. By then everything was blurry and Leo felt dizzy. 

When they were inside the ambulance, the pain started. Leo gritted his teeth as his vision blurred, and tried not to cry. Frank was in there with him, refusing to leave the Latino alone, biting his nails from the nerves as the paramedic was bandaging Leo's wrist properly, and everything just  _hurt, hurt, hurt..._

The A&E was surprisingly empty - only a few people dotted around. Leo got an x-ray and pain meds and a report was filled. Frank was at his side the whole time, ready to pass out from worry. Leo could see the guilt in his eyes and he felt terrible - it wasn't Frank's fault that Leo had weak bones, and that he was weak overall...Frank hadn't meant to hurt him, and Leo knew that. He wished Frank would stop blaming himself, because it was obvious that that was what he was doing. Besides, it was just a broken wrist. 

Eventually the doctors let Leo and Frank out. The boys sat down on the steps of the hospital, waiting for the inevitable, both gloomy and miserable and tired.

"I never told you how I got on house arrest in the first place," Frank mumbled after a moment, his breath making a white cloud in front of his face. It was freezing cold and Leo exhaled shakily. The pain was numbed down to a faint throbbing, but Frank still wouldn't look at him, even though Leo told him that it was  _fine._ He wasn't mad or annoyed or anything really. 

"You should tell me now," Leo shivered. Frank looked at the dark car park of the hospital, and then past it at the quiet street, broken up every few seconds by a passing car. The door behind them opened and Frank tensed visibly. But it was just a girl...in two braids, with a feather in her hair.

"Piper?" Leo sat up straighter. The girl blinked at Leo owlishly,

"What are you doing here?!" she asked, confused. Leo held up his wrist and smiled sheepishly,

"Twisted it," then he frowned, his heart skipping a beat, "What about you?! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah," Piper smiled uneasily, "I'm just...um..."

"This is Frank," Leo sensed she didn't want to say what she was doing at the hospital. She did that often lately - just disappeared, "My...uh...friend?"

"Hi," Piper smiled at his adorably, "I'm Piper," she shifted, "Um, it's dark and cold...you coming home, Leo?"

"I-" before Leo could answer, Frank interrupted,

"You should go with her."

"Fine," Leo wasn't going to argue - not now, "Can you give us a few minutes?" he asked the girl uneasily. Piper glanced between them and then nodded slowly,

"Sure," she said, and walked off down the parking lot. 

"There was this guy," Frank whispered as she was swallowed by the shadows, "Don't remember his name. He went round to the club when it was a proper club, sometimes. His girlfriend...well, we were kind of acquaintances I suppose. Problem was, a few days after she met me she broke up with this guy. He thought it was because of me," Frank let out a frustrated sigh, "He requested a fight with me. The club was...illegal, obviously. Anyway, he did really shit in the fight and I banged him up pretty bad. Next thing I know police are in my house, arresting me for assault and battery."

Leo stared at Frank with an open mouth, "W-What?!" he spluttered, "But...but weren't there witnesses? It was a _fight-_ "

Frank snorted humorlessly, "Sure. Witnesses. They all cleared out the second they heard the word  _police,"_ he sighed and shook his head, "Whatever," he mumbled glumly, "I'm used to it now - the arrest."

Leo opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words, "Frank I-"

The sound of a police car echoed down the street. Frank buried his face in his hands and then took a shaky breath. Leo suddenly wanted to reassure him desperately, to make him feel better. 

"You'll be fine," he said shakily, "They...you helped me to the hospital-"

Frank pulled him into a quick hug that startled Leo. It lasted maybe two seconds but it sent a shot of warmth through the Latino, and made him shiver pleasantly. Frank was warm. 

"Please go," the man whispered hoarsely, "I don't want you to see this."

Frank was so close that Leo could just lean in and kiss him. He wanted to do that, but then it would feel like a goodbye. But it wasn't - Frank would be okay. He'd get taken to the station and he'd explain the situation, and they wouldn't put him in prison. Leo kissed his cheek, his breath catching in his throat. He felt Frank tense so he quickly pulled away, heart pounding. 

"See you in a bit," he told Frank, not risking another glance at him. Leo quickly stood up and jogged to Piper, feeling sick.  _What did you just do?!_  A police cruiser pulled into the parking lot and Piper gave it a weird look. Leo didn't turn around as he heard voices. It started to snow, and Leo wanted to cry. 

***

" _So yeah, they though the emergency was a good enough excuse,"_ Frank sighed into the phone which Leo cradled to his cheek. His hands were trembling,  _"No biggie - three months and I'm out, just like promised."_

"Thank God," Leo said shakily, and then added quickly, "If I had to be couped up with you in the house for so long I think I'd lose my mind."

 _"Mhmm,"_ Frank sounded distracted. He hadn't mention the cheek-kiss yet...Leo sat on his bed, dressed in the shirt and tie he was wearing to the Christmas party. It was snowing heavily outside and Piper was banging around in the bathroom,  _"I'm sorry for hurting your wrist...again."_ Frank sounded sheepish. Leo smiled. His wrist was all wrapped up, so it wasn't that big of a deal,

"It's fine. If you hadn't broke it I might've actually hurt you," the Latino joked.

"Leooo!" Piper yelled from the living room, "We have to go!"

"I have to go," Leo repeated into the phone. For the first time in a long while he wasn't excited at the prospect of drinking out with his friends. He didn't want to see Jason and Nico together, or Silena and Beckendorf. He couldn't help but think, gloomily, that if Frank was allowed out of the house Leo might've gotten the guts to ask him to come as his plus one to the party, "Unlike you I actually have places to be."

 _"Ha-ha, you're hilarious Valdez,_ " Frank said sarcastically. There was small, sad pause,  _"Have fun though."_

"Will do," Leo bit his lip, "And don't worry I won't run around kissing strangers," he felt stupid as soon as he said it. Why would Frank even care?! What was with him even?! First the cheek kiss and now this...Leo's heart twisted. What if Frank think he liked him or something?!

_What if he did?_

_"I-I...,"_ the man spluttered on the other side, _"I'm going now!"_

"See you tomorrow Frank," Leo smiled. The phone clicked off. Leo's heart skipped a beat. 

***

"Seriously," Leo was buzzing pleasantly. He didn't know how many drinks he had - three of four maybe - but he was well and truly on his way to getting fucked off of his head. He rested his elbows on the bar, "Just tell meeee...I'm so curious!"

Piper, who was close on his heels in the drinking, just shook her head sloppily, "You've got your secrets - I've got mine," she said, downing the rest of her drink. The hall was already busy with people even though neither Percy nor Nico were anywhere to be seen. To be honest, Leo was not interested in anyone else at the moment except Piper and her mysterious disappearances to the hospital. The two barely saw eachother anymore, between Leo's work at the Shapeshifter and her running off.

"But I'm your best friendddd," Leo whined, as he poured himself another drink. Piper rolled her eyes,

"You never tell me stuff anymore," she hiccuped. She was just at that stage where she'd get emotional, Leo knew. 

"Yeah I do," he pouted. His head was swimming...maybe he drank more than he remembered.

"You never said you were in love with that Frank guy," Piper grumbled. Leo chocked on his drink as his drunken mind caught up with the girls words,

"What?!" he demanded, "I am  _not_ in love with him!"

Piper gave him her famous 'bitch please' look, "I saw the way you looked at him...," she hiccuped again, "at the hospital."

Leo felt blood rush to his face and he quickly looked down at his drink, "You're not only stupid, you're blind too," he groaned. His heart beat a bit faster though...sure, Frank was attractive, and kind, and caring, and brave and protective and funny...but that didn't mean Leo liked him! It could just be one of his many crushes, about to pass any moment. Yeah, that was it...

But drunk Leo was honest Leo, and he couldn't even lie to himself. When he was away from Frank he felt weird and hollow. Not only from Frank - just generally from the Shapeshifter. Everyone there, Charon, Miss Demi, Cat, Hestia and even Madame Zhang, they were like a second family to him by now. And Leo missed them, especially now, when he was drunk. 

"You're such a liar, Leo," Piper laughed happily, then she grew quiet again, and her eyes filled with sadness, "You should go for it," she told her friend quietly, her words slurring together. Leo had to lean in to hear her over the music, "he's right there, don't be an idiot like Nico and Jason. Just tell him how you feel. Not everyone's as lucky...," she trailed off. 

"I don't  _feel_ anything," Leo scoffed, turning away, his face burning. Suddenly Michael appeared next to them. He looked more or less the same as usual, since his work uniform for work was basically a suit, but he had opted to change his bowtie for a standard tie. He looked downright miserable, which was new. 

"Hey there Mikey," Leo smiled at him sloppily, almost slipped off of his seat. Piper wrestled the glass from the Latino's grip and finished his drink. Leo glared at her, "That was  _mine_!" he whined like a child. Michael was looking at them weirdly, 

"You should stop drinking," he said, like a parent. He sounded like he was underwater, his words echoing off of Leo's brain. The boy leaned heavily on Piper, his body feeling like lead. With jerky movements Leo opened the bottle of whiskey he and Piper were steadily finishing and poured himself the end of the bottle, 

"'S fine," he mumbled, dazed. He frowned at the glass as the liquid seemed to swim inside and Piper rubbed her face,

"I should go see her...," she slurred. Leo didn't have the strength to make his eyes look at her,

"See who?" Michael asked, exasperated. When neither Piper nor Leo found the strength to answer (not that Leo even knew the answer to that question) Michael stood up and walked away, seeming annoyed. Leo let him go as he forced himself to sit up. He was still not drunk enough, even though he was pretty sure he didn't know which way was left and which was right. 

"I want to...," Piper frowned and puffed out her cheeks, as if she couldn't concentrate. Leo suddenly didn't have the stomach for his drink. He glared at it and saw Percy out on the dance floor, being abandoned by Hazel, who seemed pretty drunk herself. The Latino slid off of his chair and stumbled towards his friend, his legs feeling numb. He spilled some of the whiskey on his shirt before he made it to the boy, practically shoving the glass into his hand. 

"Drink it," he commanded as the world swayed before his eyes. Percy's face was blurry,

"Why?"

"Because if you don't then I will," Leo smiled at him, proud he could still string a coherent sentence together. At least he hoped it was coherent. In any way, Percy did as he was told and finished Leo's drink. Immediately the Latino regretted giving it away and he turned away miserably to trip back to Piper. The girl moved past him and gave her own drink to Percy. Nico walked somewhere close by, but the ground was too unsteady for Leo to concentrate on him. Chasing Cars stared playing and Leo glimpsed some blonde guy pull Percy into his arms. 

Leo stumbled to the guy's bathroom and leaned against the door heavily. The bright light made his eyes ache and his head pound, and it didn't make him anymore sober. Clumsily, Leo pulled out his phone and pressed the last called number. It rang three times, the sound vibrating through Leo's skull.

" _Hello?"_ Frank's voice was all tired and raspy. Leo didn't know if it was because of the alcohol, or because of Frank, but suddenly his legs felt like cotton candy and he slid helplessly down the door so he was sitting down,  _"Leo?"_

"Hi," Leo whispered breathlessly, his voice shaking. He giggled,

" _Are you drunk?"_ Frank asked, obviously sleepy and confused. Leo just giggled again. He felt like he was floating. Everything seemed funny, " _Shit you're so drunk, idiot,"_ Frank sounded like he was smiling.

"I like you," Leo mumbled fondly, smiling to himself, "And I'm not mad you twisted my wrist."

There was a moment of silence on the other side,  _"I like you too, Valdez."_

"Piper thinks I'm in love with you," Leo frowned to himself, "I'm not."

 _"Right,"_ Frank sounded weird, sad almost, but Leo couldn't tell why. His heart hurt a little bit, and his head was going around in circles. Suddenly he was really cold,

"'m cold," he whispered, "I want you to hug me. Not like you did...at the hospital. Like...properly."

" _Leo...you're really drunk,"_ Now Frank sounded breathless. Leo was suddenly lonely. He curled up on himself and shivered. He wanted Frank here, with him. 

"I miss you."

" _You saw me two days ago,"_ Frank sounded amused. Leo frowned and pouted,

"I still miss you," he mumbled, "But that doesn't mean I love you."

" _Leo-"_

"I'm really drunk aren't I?" Leo blurted, feeling tears prick at his eyes. The pain in his heart wasn't disappearing, "I'm not making any sense...," he hiccuped.

" _Do you want me to come get you?"_ Frank asked softly.

"You can't leave the house," Leo slurred.

" _I'd still come get you,"_ Frank whispered, " _anything you need."_

Leo's heart twisted and he let out a shaky laugh, "Maybe I do love you afterall...just a little bit," he mumbled.

"Leo! Are you in there!" Piper knocked on the door, "I'm gonna be sick!"

" _Come tomorrow?"_ Frank asked suddenly,  _"Okay? You can sleep over."_

"Anything you need," Leo smiled drunkenly and hung up. 


	24. Act 4, Scene 6

** **

**FRANK**

Leo looked miserable as Charon opened the door, but Frank had to fight the dopey smile pushing itself onto his face. His stomach twisted, his heart skipped a beat, but that was normal. His body acted weirdly around Leo lately, and he was slowly getting used to it. 

"Hi," Leo mumbled, cheeks flushing red. No doubt he was remembering the drunk conversation he had with Frank just a few hours ago. 

"I will go now, sir," Charon straightened his suit, "I will see you tomorrow."

"Have a good evening, Charon," Frank smiled at him. The man nodded and then slipped outside. The others were gone already, and now Frank, Leo and Grandmother Zhang were the only ones in the house, "So...you enjoyed that party?" Frank said as soon as he and Leo were alone in the hallway.

Leo winced, "Please let's not talk about it," he groaned, "I was  _drunk,_ and lonely. I didn't mean the stupid things I said so just-" he faltered.  _Just what?_ Frank thought nervously. 

"Mr Valdez," Grandmother Zhang floated down the stairs, interrupting their conversation. Leo straightened up immediately,

"Looking radiant as always, Madame," he sent the old woman a charming grin. Frank rolled his eyes fondly and his grandmother raised an eyebrow,

"I do not pay you to compliment me, Mr Valdez," she smiled, "But thank you, nonetheless. Should we proceed upstairs? There are some bills I'd like you to look over."

"'Course," Leo said immediately. 

"Frank," his grandmother looked between her grandson and Leo as if she knew what was going on, "Don't you have something to do? What about some dinner? Hestia has the night off and Mr Valdez must be very hungry."

"Yes Grandma," Frank said immediately, reluctantly breaking away from them. Leo grinned at him sheepishly as he walked upstairs. 

***

"Your nan's gone to sleep."

Frank had been so engrossed in the book he was reading that he hadn't noticed that Leo slipped into the library. Now the boy stood by the door, half his face bathed in the flickering glow from the fireplace, the other half drowned in darkness. He looked unsure, and kind of nervous, and Frank couldn't pinpoint why as he closed his book. Suddenly he remembered Leo's slurred words from the night before, the ones he had replayed in his head a hundred times.  _Maybe I do love you afterall...just a little bit._

God. Did Frank love Leo too?! He was pretty sure the boy meant it in a platonic way, but if there was a chance he didn't...

The Latino finally gathered up the courage to cross the room, and he collapsed on one end of the plush couch Frank was sitting on, his feet in the boy's lap. Frank gave him an unimpressed look and Leo grinned, some of his nervousness disappearing. Frank had the weird urge to grab Leo's small feet and pull him forward until he was sitting in his lap. Then it would be easy for Frank to wrap his arms around him and kiss him senseless. 

Tension had been building up between them (the good kind) since that first night together. Now even being in the same room as Leo sent Frank's mind down the gutter and made the air spark with electricity. But it wasn't all just sexual - Leo was actually a really sweet, caring guy. He brightened Frank's days like nobody else did, and it made Frank all sad and moody when he was gone. But he was back now, if only for one night before he'd have to go again, and Frank was wondering if this was a good time to talk about feelings.

"Yoohooo," Leo waved his foot in front of Frank's face, "Earth to Frank!"

Frank grabbed his foot and on instinct started to tickle it. Leo let out a screech and tried to squirm away, his eyes wide, but Frank pulled him forwards so he could tickle his sides now. Leo screamed and then started laughing and writhing, his cheeks flushed,

"Let go you demon!" he laughed, "F-Frank stop!"

Frank grinned as he climbed on top of the Latino, his hands bunching the shirt he was wearing up underneath his arms as Frank ran his fingertips down his skin. It was all fun and games, and then suddenly the atmosphere changed. Frank's heart clenched and his hands stopped moving, circling Leo's waist so his thumbs were almost touching. Leo inhaled sharply, trying to catch his breath and looked at Frank with confused, dazed eyes. Frank was mesmerised. The boy's hair was tousled artfully, curls falling into his dark eyes.

"What?" the Latino asked breathlessly, his chest rising and falling. Frank couldn't stop his eyes from travelling lower to Leo's tanned, flat stomach, and to his sharp hipbones, where his sweatpants rode dangerously low. Frank's stomach clenched, and suddenly he  _needed_ to touch Leo-

A loud, sudden bang echoed from downstairs and both of the boys flinched. Leo's eyes widened and he hurriedly pulled his shirt down, scurrying out from underneath Frank,

"What was that?" he asked fearfully, looking towards the library door. Frank stood up as well, feeling weirdly unsettled. 

"What if there's someone in the house?" Leo whispered, eyes trained on the door.

"Don't be stupid," Frank scoffed, but something at the back of his head reminded him of when the burglars had broken into his house, all those years back. Everything was blurry but Frank remembered his grandmother screaming, and rough hands pulling him along, "I'm gonna go check it out, okay?" he told Leo, "It's probably just Cat's pets, or my grandma. Just stay here, I'll be a second," saying it out loud made Frank feel better - now he was just annoyed. He had come so close to kissing Leo, and of course something had to ruin it.

"If you're longer than two minutes I'm calling the police and evacuating myself," Leo informed him, grinning. Frank could tell he was scared though, "That's how people get killed in horror movies!"

**LEO**

He didn't want to let on how freaked out he was, but when Frank left the library Leo's automatic instinct was to grab a random weapon and hide behind the sofa. Of course he was just being an idiot and Frank was right - the noise was probably just something stupid, nobody was actually breaking in. Feeling a bit more relaxed, Leo collapsed onto the armchair and took a shaky breath. 

He didn't know what just happened between him and Frank. Leo hated being tickled, and he thought Frank was just messing around, and then he found himself suddenly just lying there, and Frank was staring, and this heat coiled in Leo's stomach...it was all too much. He didn't know how much longer he could go on pretending like he didn't have feelings for Frank.

"There you are."

Leo felt his stomach sink. When he subconsciously heard the footsteps down the corridor he just automatically assumed that it was Frank coming back. But as the Latino shot to his feet he saw that it wasn't. It was Dylan. Leo felt sick as his hands trembled, staring at the other boy, who was smiling. The smile made goosebumps appear on Leo's arms as he stared at his blackmailer, dressed in dark colours, holding a knife. His brain shut down. 

"What are you doing here?" Leo's voice sounded weak even to his own ears. He never expected to see that asshole again...

"You weren't answering your texts. I was worried," Dylan frowned, "did your phone break?"

"Are you  _insane_?!" Leo didn't know why he bothered to ask. The obvious answer was yes. He felt fear and worry and guilt grip at him, "Why are you here?! Did you break in?!"

"I went to your flat," Dylan took a step forward, his face as innocent as if he actually believed he did nothing wrong, "but you weren't there."

"Piper-" Leo whispered. He wanted to puke. He imagined Piper all alone, hiding in the bathroom.  _Why did I leave her?!_

"Oh she wasn't there," Dylan smiled, casually gesturing with the knife. Leo swallowed nervously, "And neither were you," he made a sad face as if Leo was hurting him, "I looked through your emails though. Saw the job proposition-"

"You're such a  _creep_ ," Leo said in disgust. Anger sparked in Dylan's eyes and Leo realised he made a mistake,

"That's not a nice thing to say to your fiancee," he snarled.

"You are not my fiancee," Leo growled in reply, "I don't even  _like_ you."

The anger deflated from Dylan, "Baby, if this is about the money...," he sighed, "I don't want it. I didn't spend it. I don't want to make you pay me, I just want  _you._ Come with me and I'll give it all back," he stepped closer to Leo and the panicked boy backed up, "I'll buy you nice things. You can live in my flat, and you can wait for me," his voice was getting steady lower as he advanced on the Latino. Leo's back hit the wall, and his stomach flipped unpleasantly, "I'll work hard to pay for all our stuff. You can wait at home for me and cook me dinner," Dylan was close enough now that Leo could smell his sour breath and feel his warmth. He wanted to barf, "and you can walk around in a little apron and nothing else," the man whispered lustily, "and I'll fuck you over the table-"

"Ay fuck off!" Leo yelped and ducked from underneath Dylan's arm. The man just grabbed him by the waist and hauled him back so Leo's back slammed back against the wall painfully,

"Come on, you'll love it," Dylan growled. The hand with the knife came up so he could press the cold blade against Leo's chin, making the terrified boy freeze, "We'll be together forever."

"Leave me alone," Leo whimpered, trying to hide his shaking hand and pounding heart,

"Aw c'mon-"

"What the  _fuck_ are you doing in my house?!" Frank growled from the door and at once Leo slumped against the wall, his body relaxing. God, he wanted to throw himself at Frank and kiss him. Dylan whirled around, the knife almost nicking Leo's cheek, and glared at Frank. He looked pathetically skinny and short compared to the fighter, but Leo wasn't about to underestimate his craziness. Instead he carefully inched away.

"Who are  _you_?!" Dylan demanded.

"I'm the guy who's house you broke into," Frank's shoulders were tense, his eyes stormy, "I'm going to call the fucking police."

"Leo," Dylan ignored his remark and whirled on the Latino, who was making for the flower vase so he could smash it on his head, "Why are you here at this hour?! With another man?!"

"Are you my  _mom_?!" Leo demanded with a sour face. A shadow passed over Dylan's eyes,

"Are you letting him  _fuck_ you?!" he hissed at Leo, "You're letting another man put his hands all over you aren't you?! You little cheater...that's why you had so much money you little slut!"

"Hey!" Leo protested, now more angry than scared, "I'm not fucking anyone you freak! And you were never, and never will be, my fiancee!"

"Did you know that your little whore is an illegal immigrant?!" Dylan whirled on Frank. Leo felt his heart plummet to the ground. Frank glanced at him with an unreadable expression, and then looked back at Dylan, who was fuming, the knife shaking in his hand, "Yeah! That's right! He probably just wants the green card...well guess what Leo! The only way you'll be able to stay here is if you marry  _me_!"

"That's enough," Frank grabbed Dylan's wrist in his hand, and twisted so the man cried out and dropped the knife. Frank whirled him around and pressed his arm behind his back in a way that looked painful, "I don't give a shit where Leo's from. He could be from fucking Mars for all I care."

Leo looked at Frank stupidly for a second, feeling like he just missed a step on the stairs. He wanted to smile but instead he fumbled for his phone clumsily and called the police as fast as he could. He hoped they didn't deport him.

**FRANK**

The adrenaline coursed through him through that whole encounter with Dylan. Frank was barely aware of what he was doing, he just wanted that guy  _away_ from his Leo. He wanted to hurt him, bad, especially when he saw how shaken up Leo was. When the police came Frank remembered making a statement through fog, and couldn't remember what he said. His grandma woke up and coolly asked the officers to leave with Dylan, and then she went back to her room as if nothing happened, and the Shapeshifter was quiet again. It all felt like it lasted just a few minutes.

The red mist and the adrenaline finally seeped out of him, and Frank realised that he was sitting in his and Leo's (when had it become that?) bed. Leo was in the bathroom, taking a shower, and Frank finally exhaled the breath he felt he had been holding for hours. The experience with Dylan was...surreal. He found out that he was basically blackmailing Leo because he was in England illegally as if Frank  _cared,_ as if it changed anything. 

It didn't. 

Frank felt weirdly antsy, like he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt emotionally drained, but physically his body was still waiting for a fight after such a dose of adrenaline. He needed to take out the pent up frustration on someone - and he was scared it was going to be Leo.

"I'm sorry...again," the Latino walked into the room as if summoned, towelling his hair dry. Frank was pretty sure his only aim in life was to torment Frank with the way his boxers hung low on his hips. Gods, Frank needed to get a hold of himself,

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice weirdly hoarse, "About the blackmailing?"

Leo shrugged, "I was dealing with it-"

"You were  _paying_ him," Frank sighed, "that just made it worse. What would you have done if he demanded more money that you didn't have?"

"I...," Leo bit his lip, "I reckon I'd get deported. I rather that than marrying that slime-ball," he shuddered. Frank smiled, but when he saw Leo's worried expression, his expression fell, "I suppose he'll tell the police now. About me being an illegal."

Seeing his crestfallen expression, Frank felt something twist inside of him. He slipped out of bed and stood opposite Leo,

"I was thinking...," he started, and cleared his throat, "This might sound creepy I know but...," he trailed off.

"What?" Leo asked, looking up at Frank. He sounded kind of breathless, and looked kind of beautiful.

"You could marry me," Frank said quietly, "if you wanted. Just for a while, to get all the papers, then we could-" 

"I can't ask that of you," Leo interrupted, looking away. His skinny shoulders were trembling and suddenly Frank wanted to fold him into his arms and kiss him, and not let anyone ever take him away. Christ, when did he fall so in love with Leo?

"I...I know it's not ideal, and that we barely know each other," Frank mumbled over his frantically beating heart, feeling his face heat up, "But I...I don't know. I don't want you to leave, ever. And if it takes me marrying you for you to stay then I'm willing to do it."

When Leo smiled at him his eyes were teary, "It sounds like you might love me just a little bit," he teased, but his voice trembled. 

"More than a little bit," Frank whispered and then he pulled Leo into his arms and kissed him. God, it was...Frank didn't really know how to describe it, because his mind shut off. It was different than the girls and few guys that Frank had kissed before. Less awkward, as if he and Leo fit together like puzzle pieces. Leo wasn't sloppy or clumsy, but tentative, his lips trembling ever so slightly against Frank's as if he was scared. The warmth of Leo's body so close to Frank's made him feel like his nerves were on fire, and when the boy wound his fingers in Frank's short hair they abandoned the hesitance and shyness.

Frank pushed Leo back so he ended up falling onto the bed, his and Frank's lips still connected. Their kiss became perfectly messy, their tongues fighting for dominance. Leo was breathing shakily through his nose and Frank's heart was pounding like mad as the smaller boy wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Leo tasted like toothpaste and chocolate and suddenly Frank couldn't get enough. 

He felt drunk as he pulled away so he and Leo could gasp into each other's mouths. Frank gazed down at him, flushed and panting, and gorgeously dishevelled. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Leo just swooped up and kissed him again, desperately and heatedly. Frank had no control over his body as his hands ventured underneath Leo's shirt, and his fingertips finally brushed against the boy's smooth skin that Frank had wanted to touch for so long. He didn't understand how he even had enough self control to not pounce on the boy whenever he saw him, because now that he finally had him he was becoming addicted, fast, and it was becoming harder to think straight. 

Leo pulled away again and gazed up at Frank through his eyelashes. Frank brushed back the curls from his forehead and kissed it, and then he kissed Leo's nose and cheeks and jaw line and neck, feeling like his heart couldn't take it. He was so in love it hurt.

"Marry me," he whispered, kissing Leo feverishly, "Fuck, just marry me."

"Yes," Leo didn't even hesitate, pulling Frank close so their foreheads rested together, "Anything you want."

 


	25. Act 5, Scene 1

**Act 5 - ANNABETH and PIPER**

**"THE LONELY"**

**__ **

_a_ _pub. The light is dim, the corners shadowed in darkness. Several young people sit at the counter. One of them is a beautiful, exotic girl with a feather in her hair. She is drinking whiskey, with no chaser. Piper's story starts a lot later than the others, as you might have realised, well not 'starts' exactly, more like...is set into motion. Yes, that's right, her story is set into motion a lot later than the others._

_This is Piper, and s_ _he's our last hero._

**ANNABETH**

_Her head's pounding, the lights ahead swirling into one, as if she is a camera lens and she is seeing the world come in and out of focus._

_The window's rolled down, the wind slips inside the car to caress at her hair, her cheeks, dries the tears on her cheeks._

_Why is she crying._

_Why is she driving._

_Her hands tremble but she doesn't feel the steering wheel beneath them, doesn't feel her foot on the pedal._

_Her hair twirls around her face._

_The world outside is passing outside at an alarming pace, but Annabeth doesn't know if she's the one running past, or if it's the earth spinning too fast._

_Spots dance in her vision like ballerinas, picking her tears as dance partners._

_Her skin tingles, and yet her nerves are numb._

_She tries to swallow, but someone is holding her throat, stopping the sob building up inside._

_The city rises all around her, lights climbing into the sky. She wants to stand on the hood of her car and spread her arms like an eagle, and scream._

_Instead she just lets go of the steering wheel and watches, mesmerised, as the lights climb higher and hig-_

_ _

**PIPER  
**

Drinking. Piper didn't remember when she started that - pouring alcohol into herself to forget things. At college she and Leo never even touched that toxic stuff, staying well away and living on coffee and energy drinks to see them through hard exams and sleepless nights. And suddenly they exchanged all three of those for alcohol, and it didn't sit well with Piper, especially when that morning as she was woken by Leo's toe poking her. She wrinkled her nose at the sudden smell as she became conscious of the pounding in her head and the sand beneath her eyelids. 

"Piper!" the boy hissed. His hair was flat on one side which he slept on, his eyes unfocused and sleepy. The living room was dark and Piper was trying to figure out why she was curled up in her armchair getting cramps instead of in her bed.

"What time is it?" she croaked, feeling like someone had sandpapered her throat raw. She felt like crap. Jesus, why did she even drink in the first place?!

"Too early," Leo mumbled in the darkness and Piper had to shield her eyes from the sudden light coming from the phone he flicked on. With a startled yell, the Latino fell off of the couch and just kind of lay there in a heap. Piper fought a groan and rubbed her forehead, trying to get the headache to subside, as she blindly looked for the phone on the floor. When she found it she squinted at the bright screen, 

8:54 blinked at her cheerfully.

"Leo," Piper whispered as her stomach flipped, last nights alcohol scratching at her throat impatiently. 

"What?" Leo mumbled.

"It's nine," Piper said, horrified.

"What?" Leo asked dumbly.

"It's nine," Piper repeated, as she herself tried to process the information. How did it happen?!

"The curtains are fucking drawn, Piper," Leo mumbled. Piper didn't  _care_ about the stupid curtains. She cared that she was late to work.  _Again._

_***_

Piper was tired. She just wanted to go home and slip into her bed and binge watch Boardwalk Empire. But as she closed up the cafe, she saw the bright lights spilling out of Olympus invitingly and she just couldn't  _help_ herself. She wanted to go in for just a few minutes - not even drink anything, just say hi to Mike. She hadn't talked with him for a while. She peered in through the door, and saw familiar people sitting at the bar. It was impossible for her to keep the grin off her face as she slipped inside.

"Hey guys," she said as she plopped down on a stool next to Will. The guys blinked at her and the next words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, "Whiskey please, Mike."

Michael rolled his eyes, "What's with you lot and drinking in the middle of the week?"

 _Yeah, what is with us and drinking in the middle of the week?_ Piper found herself asking. She didn't want to drink, not now, but when Michael set down the glass of amber liquid in front of Piper, she didn't object.

"Don't complain, you barely get clients at this time anyway," she rolled her eyes as she wrapped her hand around the glass,

"It's not like you guys pay or anything," Michael complained, as if he actually minded.

"Yeah but your coffee's on the house too," Piper reminded him. Though nowadays Michael came round to God's Corner less and less, and that might be because of his issues with Gwen. 

"And tattoos," Beckendorf added, "if you ever want another one."

"Yeah but I get coffee like once every two weeks," Mike protested, though it was clear he was kidding, "and I have one tattoo. You guys are here all the time. Do you know how much you cost me?! I'm gonna go bankrupt...," he said dramatically. Piper laughed.

"This whiskey," Beck held up his empty glass in challenge, "Costs like a twentieth of what your tattoo cost. You owe us a debt."

"Give me that glass before you break it," Mike took the glass off him. Jason was surprisingly quiet, Piper noted, and when she looked over the blonde was spaced out, "and that tattoo does not cost that much."

"Damn, this is strong," Piper took a sip of the whiskey and pulled a face. It burned down her throat in the most pleasant way, and tickled at her insides until she couldn't help but smile. Already she felt better.

"That's 'cause you just drink coffee all day," Beckendorf said.

"That's not true!" Piper complained. Then she remembered what Leo told her earlier - about some crazy job his internet friends sent him. It was something to do with helping an elderly woman out but the pay was _ridiculous_ as Leo put it, "Did you guys hear about Leo's escapades?" Piper wanted to update her friends as she took another healthy gulp of her whiskey, "He met some woman online and will like...spend half his time at her house, helping her out-"

"I think he told me about it," Will pondered, "Apparently it's really weird."

"Like a sugar mommy?" Beckendorf pulled a face. Piper was mesmerised by the whiskey in her glass, thinking about this situation. Was it just her or was everybody becoming more distant? Hanging out less and just  _talking_ less? Even Leo was giving her clipped answers as if Piper didn't know that something was wrong. He had a secret and he wasn't telling her.

"Okay," Michael sighed, "it's late. I've gotta close up and call it a day." 

Piper looked at him and saw that his eyes were more tired than usual, and he looked exhausted. She felt her stomach twist - was it Gwen? Did something happen?  _Christ_ why did nobody tell her anything these days?

"I just got here!" The girl protested, hoping that she'd be able to stay behind and figure out if everything was okay with Mike. It wasn't her fault she worried so much! It was just the way she was - always there to help, putting others in front of herself.

"Mike you okay?" Jason frowned. Piper was glad she wasn't the only one picking up on Michael's weird vibes.

"Fine. Just tired. So get out," Michael smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. She was about to pester him about it when he suddenly pushed the cold whiskey bottle into her hands, "Here. Go drink at home you hippie alcoholic."

_Alcoholic._

"Oh, Leo will be stoked," Piper said cheerfully, trying to hide her heart wist. She leaned across the bar and kissed Mike on the cheek, trying to force her body to leave the alcohol there. She didn't _want_ it. Instead she just said, "Night Mikey, see ya tomorrow guys!" and practically ran out of the pub. Suddenly she just wanted to go home again and slip into her bed and binge watch Boardwalk Empire and pour herself another drink. 

"Hey! We live in the same block!" Beckendorf yelled after her and ran out into the cold night. Piper liked Beckendorf, he was a good friend, so despite her desperation to get home she slowed down and let the man catch up. When he came to walk next to her, she realised how tall he was.

"Want some?" Piper offered, holding up the golden bottle. Beck shook his head,

"Nah I already drank too much and I need to open Half Blood tomorrow," he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. The streets were surprisingly dark and Piper took a swing of the alcohol to forget about that, "Besides, I promised to Skype Silena when I get home."

"At  _this_ time?" Piper raised an eyebrow. Of course, she knew all about Beckendorf's massive crush on said pub cook. She was pretty sure everyone knew (except Silena) but Beck spent hours calling Piper about it - sounding panicked and terrified at once, asking her if he should ask the girl out, if he should ask for her number, and later what he should wear to their first date. It was adorably sweet, seeing their tentative love, and yet it filled Piper with melancholy. Winter was creeping up on them, the time for love also. Last year everyone had been merry and single, happy enough with just friendships and not bothering about love. Now Nico was on Argo Street, and Silena and everything was changing. Piper felt bitter, because she didn't like the change. She was scared that everybody would find someone, and she would be alone. 

"Do you think it's inappropriate?" Beckendorf asked worriedly, hesitating, "To Skype her at this time?"

Piper shrugged, feeling like she needed another drink, "No, it's okay. Afterall, it's Silena," she rolled her eyes fondly, "The girl will probably just ask you about your day and then show you her puppy, no matter the time."

Beck relaxed visibly, "Thanks, Pipes."

***

A week passed and Piper was getting more scared that her little 'prophecy' was coming true. Leo got the job with that weird Madame and now was walking around the flat all happy, like nothing was weighing him down. Nobody got that happy over just a normal job, and yet he still didn't tell Piper about what was bothering him. Meanwhile over at Under the Rainbow and Half Blood, things were just starting to get ridiculous. Piper glimpsed the other day as Jason was desperately trying to backtrack to the Tattoo Parlour as Beckendorf and Will insistently pushed him towards the florists. 

Piper glared at the steely grey sky wondering why did she always have to be the one that's alone.

Piper went to the pub briefly on Leo's first day working two jobs, wanting to get hammered. She knew it was stupid but she felt like she was losing her best friend. Since high school her and Leo were practically inseparable. They got into trouble together (thanks to Leo) somehow got into the same college (thanks to Piper) and then at sixteen got the same job on Argo Street. They moved in together practically the _day_ Leo turned eighteen (he was two months younger than Piper) because he wanted to get away from his creepy aunt Rosa.

But now he got an extra job and didn't tell Piper about it practically until the end, and she didn't want to be mad about that but she was. Michael was weirdly distracted at the pub, as if he was waiting for someone to show up, not really listening to Piper or having a proper conversation with her so eventually the girl just gave up and dragged herself to her cold, empty flat. Leo wasn't back so Piper curled up in her bed and tried to get some sleep but it was deadly quiet and she knew she was alone, and that scared her and made her miserable. She reached under the bed for the whiskey that Mike had given her a week before and pulled it out, only to find that it was empty.

When had she drank it?

***

 _I'm pathetic,_ Piper thought, staring at her ceiling,  _God, I'm pathetic._

Everybody had  _finally_ gone out, all together, like the good old times and Piper couldn't even enjoy it and now she was just lying there moping around. She  _tried_ to have fun at the pub, but she just wasn't feeling it. Jason and Nico were so lost in each other that they barely could look at anyone else, which was exactly what Piper was scared of. Silena and Beckendorf were already off to the side, just ignoring the world around them, and Piper knew she should've been happy for them, and maybe that's why she felt so crap - because she was envious. Not of Silena for having Beck, or of Beck for having Silena, but of both of them for having each other, for having  _someone._ She wouldn't have been like that if she and Leo could remain 'alone forever' because it meant they wouldn't  _really_ be alone. But as she listened to Leo excitedly tell the rest about how he was going to spend half the week away at some stranger's house, she couldn't help but feel sick. 

And now she was lying on her bed, trying to hold back tears as her best friend arrived at his destination in a hastily ordered uber. Thing was - Piper didn't want him to lose the job. Whatever he needed the money for...well, it seemed important, though clearly not important enough for Piper to know. But she wasn't going to pry. She was used to being the third-wheel, or everybody's second choice. She had just always assumed she would be Leo's first choice, but now...something was up with Mike, and he had Gwen anyway though that obviously wasn't working out too well. Jason and Nico had eachother (at least technically) and Silena and Beckendorf each other too. Percy was pre-occupied with something or some _one_ , though nobody really knew who. Leo was gone, And Piper was alone, again. She should get used to it. 

***

Piper tried to drown herself in work but coffee making wasn't exactly the most complicated of jobs, and in-between clients she had way too much time to think. She was feeling lonely, a feeling she hated more than pain or shame or anger. At least those emotions could easily be fought - anger with calming yourself down, shame with hiding away, pain with alcohol. Alcohol only made loneliness worse, especially if you were drinking alone, and that's what Piper was doing when Leo came back home around ten. She saw him at God's Corner, but they didn't really have time to talk and now as Piper finished her glass of wine and her best friend collapsed on the couch, all ruffled curls and sparkling eyes, she was glad that he was back.

God she missed him. They said their hello's and Leo went to change into his pyjamas as Piper brought out some ice cream and cake from the kitchen, deliberately avoiding the open wine bottle on the counter. 

"So?" she prompted with a smile when she and Leo sat opposite each other on the couch, the way they did a hundred times, "How was it?"

"Well," Leo started, "Madame Zhang's not very talkative but I can live with that...but Frank. Oh _girl,_ Frank's a different story. I mean, he let me in but I could tell he was pissy. Not that I care because this guy is HOT!" Leo shouted the word, grinning, and Piper shook her head fondly, "So it was all fun and games, he borrowed me his clothes to sleep in - I stole his shirt by the way," Leo looked pleased with himself as he tugged on the material of the too big shirt he was wearing, "but then...," he shuddered, "Pipes let me tell you this house is _huge,_ and kinda creepy and I was  _not_ about to sleep there alone - so yeah like a complete child," Leo was getting cake crumbs all over himself as he talked with his mouth full, "I asked the guy to sleep with me."

"Leo," Piper grinned. It was such a  _Leo_ thing to do, "He could have taken it the wrong way."

"Hey," Leo protested and jabbed at the girl with his spoon. Piper couldn't hold back a giggle. Her body was thrumming pleasantly...maybe she had drunk a bit more than she remembered, "I am a respectable young man, okay! Besides, I think Frank got the idea because he slept with me. Just slept, Pipes."

"And you don't like him, huh?" Piper wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Leo stuck his tongue out at her, and Piper's heart clenched. It was good that Leo was with someone, like properly with. Except two random hookups he never had any dating experience and Piper wanted him to be happy...but his happiness meant her loneliness, and Piper prayed she would be okay with that. She'd give Leo the world if she could - he deserved it. He was always there for her, during her ups and downs. They got high together for the first time and fell into a pond at a park in the middle of the night. They did everything together, went everywhere together, but now Leo was going somewhere Piper didn't have permission to follow. 

"What did you do when my fine ass was gone?" Leo asked.  _Moped around, drank, cried a bit, decided I'm a pathetic excuse of a human being..._

"Went down to Mike's," the girl shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant as she scooped some of the melting ice cream into her mouth, "He was telling me about that blonde guy that keeps coming 'round."

He actually hadn't told her - just mentioned it really. He seemed too pre-occupied to have a proper conversation with her, constantly glancing at his phone like he was expecting a call from someone, which he probably was.

"What guy?" Leo frowned,

"Octavian or something," Piper sighed and then winced at how sad she sounded, "You're all leaving me," she whispered, and then quickly added, "I'm gonna become an old cat lady."

"Like Madame Zhang?" Leo raised an eyebrow suggestively. 

"Yeah, but with actual cats," Piper didn't have the strength to joke. The alcohol did its job and now her tongue was way too loose, "Jason and Nico are practically all over each other, Silena and Beckendorf are together, Mike has this new Octavian kid, you have Frank, Percy's running around with the Lone Wolf...," she sighed dramatically, trying to ease the tension she felt in her own body, "I'm left with Will."

"It's not that bad," Leo grinned, "At least he's hot," of course he could look right through her facade. His expression softened and he gently took Piper's hand, as if to remind her that he was still there, "Hey, Pipes, you'll find someone. Besides, you're a strong independent woman and you don't need no man," Piper's eyes twinkled with amusement because if they didn't they'd twinkle with tears. She squeezed Leo's hand, trying to ground herself, to remind herself that life wasn't that bad, "and I'm always here for you. I'm your best friend, and I will be forever amen, so you're stuck with me."

"Great," Piper grinned, and she meant it. Leo pulled her into a hug, all skinny arms and jutting ribs, but it was the best hug she had in ages. She buried her face in his shoulder and sighed, and held on to him to remind herself that she was not alone. At least not yet. 

"Love you, Pipes," Leo mumbled, and he didn't really sound like he was joking. Tears prickled at the back of Piper's eyes and she quickly blinked them away as she pulled back,

"Don't go sentimental on me, Leo," she ruffled his hair and smiled, praying he couldn't see the sadness in her eyes, "but love you too, Leo, love you too."

*** 

Everything started deteriorating after that. 

Michael barely had time to say two words to Piper whenever she came by the bar, too preoccupied with smiling down at his phone as he texted someone - presumably the blonde boy named Octavian. Piper didn't hold it against him, she was just sad that once again she had nobody to speak to, or even hang out with. He did it so much that Piper had taken to going to the corner shop for alcohol, instead of the pub. Leo left for his second job every day right after God's Corner closed, and came home late or exhausted or not at all. Percy was snooping around the streets with the Lone Wolf, thinking nobody would realise. And Nico and Jason...Christ those two were still pretending that there was nothing between them.

And Piper was alone.

God, she hated that she was bitter but what else was she meant to do? Her rich parents only loved her when they needed her to look pretty for a photograph, and then they'd give her away to carers and nannies. She had her Grandpa Tom, but when he passed away Piper was just left alone, in a massive, quiet house in which nobody showed her an ounce of warmth. She was the 'rich girl' in her school and loads of the girls were only friends with her because she could invite them over to her mansion. The boys just wanted to fuck her, and not  _her_ specifically, just anyone with a pretty face and a vagina. 

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself! People have it so much worse!_

Leo was the exception - they went to college together, he did engineering and she did English literature and drama, and he helped her finally figure out that she liked girls, while she helped him realise that he was bisexual. Then they moved in together, and Argo Street happened and it was so beautiful for a while. Not  _just_ for a while - for almost two years. Piper really couldn't expect it to last forever, but Christ she just didn't want to be alone. Alcohol helped, but not always. 

_Pathetic, pathetic little Piper._

She didn't expect to get a call from Michael that night. It was later, like  _really_ late coming up to three in the morning. Piper was sitting in the bathtub, slowly getting intoxicated. She wasn't drunk yet, but she was well on her way to getting there, when her phone rang. She picked up and mumbled a hello.

" _Pipes,_ " Mike sounded more panicked than Piper had ever heard him, " _Fuck Pipes something happened to Octavian!"_

Piper sat up as much as the bathtub allowed her, feeling sober all of a sudden, "What?!" she demanded, her heart beat escalating. Her friend sounded ready to cry. 

 _"I-I...he w-wasn't picking up so I went r-round to his a-and...,"_ Mike took a shaky, crackling breath,  _"and his neighbour told m-me that the ambulance t-took him to the h-hospital..."_

Piper hauled herself out of the bath, "I'm on my way. Meet me on Argo Street and we'll go to the hospital together."

That was her - Piper, always helping people out.

There was nobody to help her though. 

***

Piper always had a way of sweet talking her way out of things. In college it was the only thing that kept her and Leo from getting excluded...multiple times. And now as the elderly nurse on night duty eyed them up and down, it was Piper who got them into the hospital.

"No visitors after eight pm," the nurse said sternly.

"Ma'am please," Piper pleaded. Behind her Michael was pacing, and shaking, like he couldn't control himself, "We need to see him."

"I said no visitors-" the nurse started again but Mike interrupted harshly,

"Fuck just let me see  _him_!"

"Come back in the morning, sir," the nurse didn't seem impressed by his outburst.

"Haven't you ever been in love?" Piper asked softly, which made both the nurse and Mike look at her quizzically. But Piper was a bit tipsy, and a bit sad, and she didn't want Mike to be sad too, "Haven't you ever loved someone so much that you thought you could die?" Piper locked eyes with the nurse and she saw the uncertainty in her eyes. She knew she struck a cord, "You loved them so much that if something happened to them you'd never forgive yourself? You'd die of heartbreak. Well," she pulled a confused Michael forward, "He's dying of heartbreak right now," Piper tried to make her voice as full of emotion as she could, "because the man he loves is hurt, and he doesn't know why. He  _just_ wants to see him," she took the nurse's hand in her free one, " _Please."_

The woman glanced at Michael and then back at Piper and stepped back, "If anyone stops you, don't say I let you in."

"Thank you!" Mike kissed the startled nurses cheeks and then rushed inside the empty hospital. Piper ran after him, "Where could he be?!" Michael demanded as he stopped at an intersection in the corridor. He was acting like a hyperactive child, barely giving himself time to think or breathe. Thank God Piper was the brains of this 'operation.'

"Accident and emergency?" she offered. Michael nodded and then run upstairs, where an arrow indicated the A&E was. Piper was hot on his heels. They made it to the second floor before another nurse started yelling after them, "Split up!" Piper commanded, and then she dashed down a smaller, darker corridor. She didn't know what the hell she was doing, but she just ran, taking random turns and stairs, hearing the insisted footsteps of a nurse chasing after her and yelling at her to stop. Piper's heart pounded, her head spun. 

She realised she couldn't hear the nurse anymore after a few minutes and she stopped and turned around. She had no idea what section of the hospital she was in, but it looked similar to the A&E hallway. The floors were slippery, the walls bleached white, decorated with half a dozen doors. A row of bare windows showed London at night, winking lights at Piper. She collapsed into a hard plastic chair and tried to catch her breath. She slipped out her phone, wanting to text Mike and see if he found Octavian, but there was no signal. Impatiently, Piper shoved the device back in her pocket and then she heard footsteps down the corridor, hurried and angry. Panic gripped Piper's heart and she dashed to the closest door number 6, and slipped inside.

It was dark. The curtains on the window were partly drawn so Piper could only see a sliver of the city and the night past it. A quiet, steady  _beeping_ echoed in the room, and a little golden lamp was burning next to the hospital bed. A few machines were arranged around said bed, blinking yellow and green and red lights at Piper. She hesitated, her hand still on the doorknob, her heart still pounding. She heard the nurse hurry past outside but instead of going back into the corridor, Piper came towards the bed, creeped out and curious.

There was a girl lying on the pillows. Her golden hair, despite being greasy, spilled around her like a halo. Her skin was pale and sallow, dark circles under her closed eyes. Her eyelids didn't move, or flutter, or anything really, she just lay there motionless. Her full lips were dry and pale, her hands laying on her side, pierced with multiple tubes.

Piper stared at her, transfixed. There were tiny, healed cuts on her arms, as if she was cut by pieces of glass. Piper reached out with a trembling hand, her breath catching, and touched the girl's cheek. She flinched back when she felt it was warm. She didn't know why but she expected the girl to be dead. She wasn't. 

She was just in a coma.


	26. Act 5, Scene 2

** **

**ANNABETH**

_Cold._

_God, it was cold._

_The rain sunk in through her skin and pooled in her lungs until she felt like she was breathing ice._

_She took a swing of her drink, but it was all gone and the bottle felt heavy in her hand._

_Behind her, he screamed. At her. He sounded like a wild dog, howling at the moon._

_She was the moon._

_His fingers clenched around her wrist. They hurt. They hurt just like the cold and she wrenched herself free only to stumble forward._

_The world was a circus, and it was performing tricks just for her._

_She blindly found her car, her hands scrambling against the wet metal._

_The wind tugged her hood off with insistent hands and the rain peppered her hair._

_She got into the car and took a shallow breath._

_It smelled like mint._

_She started the car._

_ _

**PIPER**

It was kind of sad how the second Mike didn't need her, he completely forgot about her. She knew he was busy with Octavian and his stair falling accident but Piper still felt like shit about just being pushed to the side...Leo was completely absorbed with Frank and the Shapeshifter, almost falling asleep at God's Corner, so Piper always just had herself and her thoughts as company. But she couldn't do anything about it, so instead she worked super hard and then went home and drank. She didn't even realise she was doing it anymore - she'd pull the whiskey out of the freezer the way someone might pull out a coke. 

She was drunk when she showed up in front of the hospital. Not  _fall over and puke_ drunk but  _shit what am I doing?_ drunk. The building loomed overhead and Piper just kind of stared at it, open mouth, until she started getting a neck cramp. It was already dark, but the hospital was still allowing visitors, so Piper went inside as if she had a purpose and wasn't just walking around aimlessly.

Her feet took her back to the third floor, the 'coma hallway.' It was silent and empty, which Piper couldn't help but find sad. It's almost like these people, lying in these rooms, were abandoned, just left for the dead. Nobody cared about them, which Piper found ironic since nobody cared about her either. She wanted to leave, she had no purpose in this hallway. And yet her feet took her to room number six, and her hands opened the door against her will. 

She looked the same as before, dead, but someone had washed her hair, probably one of the nurses. Suddenly Piper had no more strength in her legs and she collapsed into the plastic chair next to the bed of the blonde girl. 

"Hey," she said, softly, like an idiot. The girl couldn't hear her. Piper sniffed, tears filling her eyes. She was an emotional drunk, but there was nobody to be emotional or drunk  _with_ , only this blonde angel lying peacefully on the pillows, "They forgot about you too, huh?" Piper sniffed again. She reached out and took the angel's hand, maybe because she just needed physical contact. The girl's hand was warm in hers, alive. Piper held it tightly. 

She didn't know how long she sat there but she must've fallen asleep at some point because suddenly there was a nurse next to her chair, looking worried,

"Miss?" she asked carefully, placing a hand on Piper's shoulders, "Visiting hours are over."

"Oh?" Piper said intelligently sitting up in the chair. She felt like every part of her body was stiff, and when she looked down she saw she was still holding the blonde girl's hand, "Sorry," Piper didn't know whether she was apologising to the nurse or the sleeping girl, but she let go of the hand either way. The nurse smiled gently at Piper,

"It's no problem," her voice was very soothing, "Are you her friend?" she glanced at the sleeping girl.

"Um...n-no...not really," Piper swallowed past the dryness in her throat, "I just thought she looked lonely," she mumbled quietly. The nurse nodded gently,

"Yes, Annabeth doesn't get many visitors."

"Annabeth?" Piper slurred.  _Annabeth,_ it was a nice name.

"Annabeth Chase," the nurse repeated patiently, "She's been with us for two years now."

"How did she end up here?" Piper frowned at the body on the bed.

"Drunk driving. She was in an accident," the nurse said sadly. Piper's heart clenched and she suddenly felt horrible for coming here when she was intoxicated, "Smashed right into a tree. They had to operate and...well, she just never woke up. Her family used to come at first, leave flowers and such, but then they just stopped, as many families do."

"Oh...," Piper said again. Gods, that must be horrible - to have everyone just forget about you. Piper suddenly wanted to hug Annabeth, even though she couldn't feel it. Instead she just squeezed the girl's hand again, quickly, just in case she  _could_ feel it, "I'll go now," she told the nurse, feeling herself blush at her weird display of affection. The nurse just smiled,

"Come by again," she said, "maybe it'll make Annabeth feel better."

"Okay," Piper found herself saying, and then she was stumbling out of the hospital. The next thing she knew was she was back in her dark apartment, all alone, with her shoes in her hand and her feet wet from walking through the wet streets barefoot. 

*** 

It was the last warm day of the year and Piper was sitting on the bench in a close-by park, sober for the first time in ages. She was alone, and slowly she was getting used to that. The sun danced among the trees as excited children ran around, screaming and kicking up piles of rotten, amber leaves. The cool wind tugged at Piper's hair and scarf but the girl didn't pay it any attention as she bit the end of her pen, staring at the blank piece of paper in her lap. 

She used to write poets, all the way through college before she drank so much that the words blurred together. But now she was sober, and although that put her in a bad mood it also gave her the chance to write again. Except she couldn't think of anything to bloody write. She sighed and looked around, hoping something would inspire her. The sun broke beautifully through the leaves shielding her little bench, and the light looked almost like from underwater. The crimson leaves underneath her boots were shaped like stars, clouds lazily floating through the sky like messy smudges of a painter's brush, almost like a second thought. Looking at all of this Piper could think of a dozen metaphors off the top of her head, but whenever she put the pen to the paper, they'd all evaporate as if they weren't really there at all. 

It was frustrating. Piper nibbled on her pen and tried to concentrate, but her thoughts kept straying. Half of them went to the vodka she had in the freezer, and how nice it would be to mix some with coke right now, sit in front of a TV and watch a rom-com or a zombie movie, or something. Or run herself a bath and have a glass of wine. The other half of her mind went to the hospital. She could almost hear the beeping coming from Annabeth's room.

 _Annabeth._ God, one mistake, one drunk drive, and the girl was paralysed in a bed. She was Piper's age, and yet she wasn't even properly alive. She was asleep, and the world moved past her at an alarming pace. Piper wondered if she would ever wake up. If she was an artist she would've liked to draw Annabeth, with her halo of golden hair and dark eyelashes making shadows appear on her porcelain cheeks. 

The paper was ripped from underneath Piper's hands and swirled up with the leaves, and although it had only smudges of ink on it, Piper still mourned it. 

***

"Maybe you should go to support group," the statement came so suddenly and out of the blue that Piper almost chocked on her bourbon. Reyna was leaning on the bar, looking at her worriedly, "It's just...," she quickly began explaining, seeing Piper's confused expression, "You're  _always_ drinking, or already drunk. I'm just worried..."

"Y-You're worried?" Piper blinked at her. God, she didn't think anybody cared anymore. Reyna just shrugged,

"Yeah, sure," she said, "We're all friends here. And I'm scared you're turning into an alcoholic."

"I'm not!" Piper protested but her mind immediately thought  _God, what if I am?!_

"Beck told me he found you outside your flat, passed out drunk," Reyna frowned, " _Twice."_

"I-I...," Piper swallowed uneasily, "that was...that was because of Leo...a-and besides it's fine! I can stop drinking if I want to!"

Reyna took the bourbon glass out of her hand and Piper's stomach flopped to the ground, "Prove it! No drinking for a week straight, okay? Can you do it?"

"Of course," Piper tried to sound confident despite the dryness in her throat. Reyna nodded,

"And if you can't manage it - you'll go to AA. Okay?"

"Okay."

*** 

Piper's hands were clenching and un-clenching in her lap as she looked around the circle at other people at the Alcoholic Anonymous meeting. She didn't want to be here. She was in a terrible mood (possibly because she was sober) and she was exhausted after work. Instead of sitting down at home with a bottle of wine and trying to fruitlessly write another poem, she was here, looking at people who were possibly like her. She hadn't even lasted two days. Christ, not even forty eight hours in and she couldn't help herself. Reyna caught her drinking whiskey in the back of the pub, already half drunk. And now Piper was here.

"So," A tight-faced woman with dark hair and a stern expression on her face looked around the circle, "We're all here. My name is Hera and I'm going to be running these sessions. Why don't we go around the circle, introduce ourselves and say a fact about ourselves?" she looked at the alcoholics impatiently, "Yes?" they all mumbled their 'yes'es' and Piper felt like she was back in primary school. She was feeling horribly antsy, "I would also like you to say 'and I am an alcoholic' at the end of your sentence, yes? That's the first step to dealing with the problem - admit you have a problem."

Piper wanted to slap her, but instead she just sunk lower into her uncomfortable chair and watched as an older guy stood up first. He was short, rounded and red-faced and it looked like he came to Alcoholics Anonymous already drunk. His Hawaiian shirt was splattered with red wine,

"My name's Dionysus," he said in a surprisingly clear, gruff voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, "Y'all can call me Mr D."

"A fact about yourself, Mr D?" Hera offered with a fake smile, clearly impatient. Mr D shrugged,

"Err...I'm an American. Yeah, that's right, I'm American," he flashed them an amused grin, "and I'm an Alcoholic," he said the last bit like he was proud of it, and then sat back down in his chair. It seemed that he was only here for the banter, and didn't actually want the help. The man next to him stood up. He was considerably younger, with curly black hair and an uncertain expression on his face. His lips were stained red so he looked like he was wearing lipstick,

"Hi everybody," he said with an awkward wave, "I'm Dakota and I'm an alcoholic. I like to mix vodka into my cool-aid and drink it at work."

"Gross, man," the plump, blonde boy next to him made a sour face as he stood up. Dakota sat down quickly, "I'm Pollux. I'm nineteen. I'm an alcoholic I guess," he sounded disinterested. Piper spaced out as the next people - two older women and an ancient man - introduced themselves. Her thoughts went where they usual went - half to the drink she'd pour herself after this stressful meeting, and half to the dark hospital room where Annabeth Chase slept while the world moved on. 

"Excuse me, young lady," Hera was waving in her face, her fake smile in place, "it's your turn."

Piper stood up hastily, feeling her face heat up, "I...uh, I'm Piper," she said awkwardly, feeling a dozen pairs of ice look at her intently. She swallowed nervously, "and I'm a barista." She added and plopped back down quickly.

"Didn't you forget something, darling?" Hera asked, falsely sweet.

"Yeah," Mr D laughed, "Take the first step to deal with the 'problem'!" it was clear he was being sarcastic. Piper opened her mouth but the words wouldn't make it past her lips. Somehow, saying them meant that she was making it real - it would be turning her wild drinking escapades into a real problem. Piper couldn't do that. It meant that she had a problem, and sooner or later the others would find out about it, even though they had so many problems of their own...

"Come on Piper," Hera encouraged her, like a nursery teacher, "You can do it! I'm an Alcoholic - there, it's very simple! Here-- everybody let's say it with her!"

 _"I'm an Alcoholic_ ," rang through the room and banged around in Piper's head. She felt sick as she lurched to her feet and stumbled out of the room, out of the building, onto the cold, dark street where she took greedy gulps of the cool air, trying to get the dizziness to pass. She was  _not_ an alcoholic. To prove that, instead of going home and drinking herself to sleep, she started sluggishly walking towards the hospital.


	27. Act 5, Scene 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER - i cant write poetry for shit forgive me

** **

**ANNABETH**

_His words were muffled, maybe he was drowning. Maybe_ she  _was drowning._

_A ringing filled her head as the bright lights of the room - the ones she once considered warm and comforting - flashed before her eyes._

_They were like traffic lights. From red to amber to green._

_She had to run at green._

_Get ready, set..._

_He was a shadow._

_Just a shadow._

_But his shadowy hands did not pass through her._

_The bare bulb above was the sun, and in the sun the shadow gripped her by her throat._

_He painted her skin purple._

_Purple and green and yellow, like an abstract painting._

_She was an abstract painting, she was the moon._

_She couldn't breathe._

_When she ran outside it was raining._

_ _

**PIPER**

She tapped her pen against the paper in rhythm with the heart monitor, beeping quietly and steadily. Annabeth lay in her bed, quiet and peaceful as always, and Piper curled up in the chair next to her. She wondered if the girl didn't like her staring. Over the past week Piper had come here almost every day after work since it got too quiet and sad at home, all by herself, and here at least she felt like she was helping someone.

Maybe Annabeth was trapped inside her body, unable to move, but still able to hear. Maybe she knew her family had abandoned her. Piper knew it was a stupid thought, but she hoped that her presence made the girl feel at least a little bit better.

"I think Leo might be falling in love," Piper whispered to the quiet room. Annabeth wouldn't reply and Piper  _knew_ it was idiotic talking to a coma patient and yet...she didn't know why but when she sat in the hard, uncomfortable plastic chair and talked to Annabeth, everything seemed better. She had gone sober for three days and was in a  _horrible_ mood, but that all disappeared as soon as she came to the girl's room, as if the angel's aura calmed her, "All he talks about is Frank. I'm bitter, I know. I'm not pissed that he's happy, I'm pissed that I'm not..," she bit her lip, "but what do I know? It's really not that bad. You have it worse, God, you have it worse. I wish you'd wake up," her voice had gone all soft, "I want to know the colour of your eyes and what you sound like. I don't want you to die."

God, when did she get so attached? And  _how_?! Annabeth didn't move or speak or even listen properly. She was practically dead and yet Piper found comfort in her presence, in the gentle rising and falling of her chest that reminded Piper that even despite everything that happened to her, it wasn't the end of the world for Annabeth because she wasn't dead  _yet._

Without really meaning to, Piper started to write.

_The lonely angel laid in her bed,_

_The lonely girl thought she was dead,_

_If she had a heart she'd give it to you,_

_and maybe someday you'll give her yours too,_

_They are two strangers, their souls collided,_

_By the hand with the candle, steadily guided,_

_The lonely girl will go far away,_

_The lonely angel, she's forced to stay,_

_And even though they both feel the pain,_

_Someday the lonely may meet again._

Piper sighed and closed the notebook, "You probably think I'm such a weirdo," she smiled tiredly at Annabeth, "Maybe I am. But I'm _not_ an alcoholic." She glanced at the clock - it was late, way past visiting hours but the nurses let Piper hang around longer since she was the only one who bothered to visit Annabeth. Piper didn't know why she did it - maybe because it made her feel like she had a purpose, or maybe because she hated the idea of someone being so alone that their own family left them. It was heartbreaking. 

The girl packed away her stuff and then leaned over to kiss Annabeth's forehead, "See you later, Blondie," she smiled and then walked out. She knew her way around the ward now, and knew that if she went out of the A&E exit she'd have less steps to walk in the cold. It wasn't raining but she could tell that the night was cold. Leo was probably all nice and snug at the big house with its fireplaces and stuff. 

A&E was basically one of the few wards (excluding maternity) that was loud all day and all night. There was  _always_ someone there, with a finger they accidentally sliced or a bottle cap they accidentally swallowed. Piper quickly walked past the few people milling around, waiting their turn, clutching various body parts as if that would make their pain go away, and walked outside. The cold hit her and she shivered, and then she saw a familiar figure sitting on the steps in front of her and froze mid-step. Leo turned around, his eyes wide. Next to him sat a big, muscular guy.  _Frank._

"Piper?" Leo asked, clearly confused.  _Oh God what if he's dying?!_ panic gripped Piper heart. Why else would Leo be here?! He  _hated_ hospitals.

"What are you doing here?!" she demanded, feeling like she was about to pass out. What if Leo was terminally ill?! What if she hadn't noticed because she was too busy being all sad and depressed-

Leo held up his wrist, which was bandaged, and smiled sheepishly, "Twisted it," he offered, and then frowned, his eyes filling with worry, "What about you?! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah," Piper smiled uneasily, her heart calming down, "I'm just...um...," what was she meant to tell him?  _I'm visiting some random coma patient every day, but haha no worries, it's all good._

"This is Frank," Leo said quickly, and Piper was glad for the change of topic. The guy - Frank - offered her a shy smile, "My...uh...friend?" the girl sensed the hesitation in Leo's voice and wondered what he wasn't telling her. It hurt that he didn't even speak to her properly anymore.

"Hi," Piper smiled at Frank. Somehow she wasn't bitter about the two of them, not anymore. Frank's shy smile and the way the two looked together (pretty gosh darn cute) made all her anger and sadness evaporate, "I'm Piper," she moved restlessly and shivered again, "Um, it's dark and cold...you coming home, Leo?" she asked, a bit hopefully. Maybe they'd be able to catch up. 

"I-" Leo started, but Frank interrupted him quickly,

"You should go with her," his eyes softened when he looked at Leo, in a way that made Piper's heart twist. 

"Fine," Leo mumbled, looking like he was having a silent conversation with Frank with just his eyes. He glanced at Piper, "Can you give us a few minutes?" he asked hesitantly. Piper glanced between them, and nodded slowly. She could use some time to re-arrange her thoughts too. 

"Sure," she said, and walked off down the parking lot. It got darker as she walked further away from the boys, and their voices grew more hushed. When Piper felt like she was wrapped up in darkness, she let herself fight a sob. It was so unfair - that people at random got to be happy. Of course, Leo and Frank deserved to have each other, everyone on Argo Street deserved to be happy. But so did Annabeth, and yet she was upstairs, alone and asleep. God, life was unfair. Piper fought her tears desperately - there was no point crying, it wouldn't wake Annabeth up. 

A police cruiser pulled into the parking lot and Piper quickly wiped her tears before turning around. Leo was walking towards her, looking miserable. Piper saw the car pull up to the entrance of the hospital where Frank was still sitting. For once, she didn't ask, didn't let Leo put his problems on her. She was exhausted, and sad and angry at the world. Leo had tears in his eyes but he didn't stop walking as he walked past Piper, so the girl just shuffled after him. Something wet hit her cheek and when she looked up she saw soft, white petals swirling from the dark sky.

_Snow._

She wanted to run back to the hospital and tell Annabeth that it was snowing. But there was no point. Without warning Piper collapsed onto the street curb, feeling like her legs were made of jelly, and buried her face in her hands. She felt more than saw Leo sit down next to her. The next thing she knew was that they were both crying, clinging onto each other and sobbing into each other's shoulders. For once, they didn't ask questions, didn't talk or try to make each other feel better. They just held on and cried, and that was all they needed.

When Piper came home, she poured herself a drink but she doubted Leo even noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, a new idea popped into my head today in history. I kind of wanna do like a medieval bath-house/prostitute mashup with original characters (gay of course lololol you know me I'm as straight as a bendy ruler). IDK what do you guys think?


	28. Act 5, Scene 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know shit about alcoholics don't take any of my advice sozzles

** **

**ANNABETH**

_She was buzzing. There was a beehive inside her._

_She giggled and he looked at her,_

_with soft, soft eyes, full of warmth._

_She loved those eyes once._

_Once._

_She shouldn't have drank. But the liquid was dappled with gold and it started a fire inside her stomach._

_She told him,_

_slurred,_

_she loved him,_

_once, a long_

_long_

_time ago._

_Not anymore._

_The sting of pain in her cheek. One of her bees had gotten out._

_The softness is gone from his eyes,_

_replaced by a dark fire._

_He raises his hand once more._

_ _

**PIPER**

The snow was swirling outside, just flecks of white coming out of the darkness and piling up on the windowsill. Christmas was fast approaching, just two weeks away and Piper couldn't help but smile. The hospital was decorated by garlands of mistletoe and plastic Santa Clauses, especially in the children's ward. Piper had brought fairy-lights and strewn them around Annabeth's room, making it more cosy. There was no point doing it at home - Leo was at the big house practically non-stop now, and sometimes he came with bruises or cuts from the fight club, always grinning. It was looking like they wouldn't have a Christmas tree this year, and Piper was worried that they wouldn't have Christmas at all.

Since they knew each other, Leo had always come to hers for Christmas dinner and a party, and when they moved in together a year ago they spent Christmas eve on their couch, drinking, wearing stupid Christmas hats and watching home alone after their makeshift dinner of turkey sandwiches and chips instead of roast potatoes. It was one of the best Christmas' especially when around midnight Michael called Piper and asked her to come down to the pub, because everyone was there. So Piper and Leo went, still in their pyjamas, still in their hats, and laughed with their friends until dawn.

And this Christmas, she'd be alone.

"I wonder if you even know its Christmas," Piper mused quietly, looking at Annabeth in the dim, rainbow glow from the fairy lights, "it's snowing," Piper whispered, and reached out to brush a strand of Annabeth's hair from her face. It was getting greasy again, "Actually properly snowing. It looks like God is icing the world with sugar...," she smiled, "do you even believe in God? I don't mind if you don't. You can be atheist or Jewish or Buddhist, whatever you want," her smile fell and suddenly she felt horribly hollow and sad. She took Annabeth's hand in her own, "you can be anything you want, Annabeth, if you'd only wake up...I'll stop drinking if you wake up, okay?"

"Um, excuse me...," the voice almost gave Piper a heart attack as she jumped up from the plastic chair. In the door stood a blonde man, unshaven, dressed in an old flannel. Next to him was a woman with a stern expression, in a business suit. Piper glanced between them, her heart pounding. The resemblance was unmistakable, "are we interrupting?"

"You're Annabeth's parents," Piper whispered, astonished. The man looked uncomfortable but the woman wrinkled her nose as if Piper was vermin,

"You must be one of her friends," the man rushed forward, "I...I'm Fredrick Chase, Annabeth's dad...," he glanced at the woman still glaring at Piper from the door, "That's Athena. My ex wife," he looked uncomfortable.

"I...," Piper swallowed nervously, "The nurse said you guys don't come to visit..."

"Excuse  _me_?!" Athena demanded, outraged, and Piper flinched, "We're her parents! What we do is none of your concern," she looked down at Piper, "And who are you?"

"I'm um...Piper," Piper mumbled pathetically. Athena glared harder,

"Why are you here?! I don't recall you being one of Annabeth's school friends-"

"Athena calm down," Mr Chase said sternly and then turned to Piper,

"I come to visit," Piper said before he could ask, "I read to her...sometimes," she added weakly.

"My daughter is not some infant that needs to have books read to her!" Athena scoffed.

" _Athena_ ," Frederick interjected. Then with a sigh he turned back to Piper and rubbed his stubbly jaw, "Thank you...for coming here. My ex wife and me...we don't get much time anymore," from his face Piper saw that even he thought that was a bad excuse, "In any case," he cleared his throat, "You won't need to come here anymore."

"What?" Piper frowned. Athena stepped forward,

"What my husband means it that after Christmas we are taking Annabeth off life support."

"What?" Piper croaked, her throat suddenly unbearably dry, " _why_?!"

"Don't take it the wrong way," Mr Chase quickly stepped in, "We love our daughter. But she's been asleep for so long...," he shook his head, "it's inconvenient and expensive."

"Are you  _insane_?!" rage boiled inside Piper, so sudden and strong her knees went weak. She was never one to get angry and yet now she saw red as her body buzzed with sudden fury, "She's been in a coma for  _two years,_ that's nothing! People wake up after ten years, twenty even! Expensive and inconvenient?! Are you crazy?! She's your bloody  _daughter-"_

"That's enough," Athena's hands trembled, "that's quite enough."

"You are _not_ taking her off life support!" Piper growled, her hands balled into fists, "You were never here! The nurses told me all about it, how Annabeth's always alone. How can you be so cruel?! How can you leave your child to such a fate, all alone?! She needs to you, her parents, her family, and where were you up until this point?!"

Athena slapped her and despite the fact Piper's head snapped to the side, she barely felt it.

"Athena!" Mr Chase roared, "That's enough!" The tension dropped in the room. Piper touched her cheek tentatively. Athena looked shocked. Mr Chase ran a hand down his tired face, "Miss Piper," he said, gently, carefully, as if he knew her, "Please. Annabeth won't wake up."

The anger deflated out of Piper, "Yes s-she will," she whispered, her voice trembling. She looked at Annabeth in her bed, her golden hair and porcelain skin. Suddenly she didn't look dead - she looked alive, so damn alive, with a beating heart and blood rushing through her body, a body that could feel. Piper's vision blurred with tears - Annabeth wasn't dead, but they wanted to kill her. And Piper would never see the colour of her eyes, or hear her voice, or feel her hand grip hers back. 

"Get out," Athena hissed, as if Piper was the intruder. Maybe she was. She only came to the hospital to help her friend, she was never meant to be here.

That's what you get for helping people.

 *** 

The noise was steadily increasing behind Piper, and she knew that more and more people were coming into the pub. It was a few days since the unfortunate meeting with Annabeth's parents, and Piper hadn't dared to go to the hospital since. She took a few days off at work to just lay in bed and sleep, or drink. She desperately needed someone. God knows why but she got attached to Annabeth, but she spent ages with her, even if she just sat there and read a book or wrote a poem or whatever. And now they were telling her that the little bubble she had created in the girl's hospital room, where she could pretend everything was okay, would burst.

Piper knew she had no right to demand Annabeth's parents to not take the girl of life support. But she couldn't just stand by, the idea that the steady  _beep, beep, beep_ of Annabeth's heart monitor could be silent forever made her insides twist. How could anyone be so cruel?! First the Chases didn't visit their daughter for almost two years, and then they decided to just kill her because it was 'inconvenient.' It wasn't like there wasn't any hope - Annabeth was just in a coma for two years, and the nurses said she could wake up any moment.

"Piper," Michael waved his hand in front of her face impatiently, "are you listening?"

Piper snapped out of her thoughts and slowly the noise of the pub filtered back in. She straightened up, her hands tightening on her whiskey glass,

"Yeah," she tried to smile, "sorry."

"Anyway," Mike gave her a weird look a continued cleaning glasses, "How's Leo?"

"I...," the girl frowned, trying to remember when was the last time she spoke to her housemate. It seemed so irrelevant now, "Good I guess. He's at the other job a lot."

Mike nodded, "With the milf right?"

"She's not a milf," Piper smiled despite herself. The door to the back opened and a blonde boy peeked out from the kitchen shyly. Piper blinked, surprised. Mike didn't tell her that he finally got the guts to speak to the Octavian guy.

"Oh," Mike smiled at the kid, "Hey Tav, wanna come over?"

The blonde bit his lip and glanced at the kitchen, but eventually he shuffled to the bar. He looked nervous and scared and somehow that made Piper want to protect him. She smiled gently,

"Hi," she said. 

"Octavian's a selective mute," Mike said quickly as Octavian nervously sat down at the bar, keeping a stool between him and Piper.

"Oh. Okay," Piper finished her drink. There was something between Octavian and Mike clearly, but neither offered an explanation and Piper wasn't in the mood to push it, "How's Gwen?"

Mike winced and Octavian tensed visibly, "Same as before," Michael tried to sound nonchalant, "We're constantly fighting."

"I'm sorry, man," Piper sighed, "You think you'll work it out?"

Mike shrugged, "Dunno. Maybe. Hopefully," he cleared his throat, "I barely see you round anymore. You're always at the hospital," he was clearly trying to sound casual and lighten the atmosphere, "Leo's complaining."

As if either of them even cared. They were too busy with their love lives to even know about Piper's drinking problem, or the situation with Annabeth. Not that she could blame them - love blinded people. She just wished she could tell someone that Annabeth was being taken off life support. She didn't know what to call her - a friend, an acquaintance, a hopeless love. _How do you introduce someone you've never spoken with? And why is it so unfair? Why does everyone get to be happy but me? Why does Annabeth not deserve to live but all the rest of us do?_

"Leo's barely home," Piper said, annoyance and frustration building up inside of her, "he's always at that weird mansion. He barely comes over anymore, and I only see him at work."

"But why the hospital?" Michael seemed confused. Piper swallowed uneasily as Annabeth's golden hair flashed in her mind. God, she was going to be sick. 

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, trying to hide her tears.

*** 

Piper stood up, her chair scarping against the floor. A dozen pair of eyes watched her expectantly as she cleared her throat, 

"Hi," she mumbled nervously, "My name's Piper, I'm a barista," she took a deep breath, "and I'm an alcoholic."

A round of applause broke out among the other AA participants and Piper smiled at them tensely before plopping back down into her chair, her palms sweating.

"Alright," Hera smiled at them, "We've all introduced ourselves, so let's move on. Alcoholism is usually caused by trauma or personal problems in your daily life. Stressful work, or a job you don't like, relationship issues or a tragedy can all be significant reasons for someone to start drinking," Hera's eyes swept the room, "We're all in this together, we're all here. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I'd like all of you to tell your story, how you began drinking, and that way it'll be easier to stop. Could I have a volunteer?" she asked patiently. Nobody volunteered, "Piper? Why don't you go first, darling."

Piper already run away once, and she wasn't about to do that again. She straightened up in her chair and put her hands in her lap, "Right so...uhh...I drank a little bit. Before stuff happened," she risked a glance up but everyone was staring at her intently so she dropped her eyes back to her shoes, "just occasional drinks and stuff. I don't know, it was harmless back then," she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear nervously, "But...um, my r-roommate he suddenly got another job and um...he was home less and less and my friends they all had less time to hang out and stuff. I know it's stupid but...," she sighed, "I think I drink because I'm lonely. I feel like everybody's abandoning me, and that in a few weeks I'll be all alone. Alcohol makes me feel like I'm okay, I can pretend that I don't mind being alone. But I do," she glanced up and Dakota smiled at her reassuringly from across the room, "I'm scared of being alone, this loneliness it's so...um, yeah," she finished lamely. Everyone clapped politely. 

"Piper you came back to us," Hera said gently, "after that first meeting. Why's that?"

Piper pushed her hair from her forehead and took a shaky breath, "I...met someone. Well not met actually, just...I don't know. It's hard to explain. But she's...she's in a coma," she could see the shock on people's faces but she continued despite the pain squeezing her heart, "drunk driving. She crashed into a tree," she cleared her throat, trying to get her voice to sound less hoarse, "she's been asleep for two years and now her parents want to take her off of life support."

She heard a gasp, "Poor kid," Mr D shook his head. 

"You don't want to end up like her?" Hera said in her best teacher voice, "You see the dangers of drinking?"

Piper shook her head. She didn't have the strength to be annoyed, "I owe it to her," her voice cracked, "I promised I-I'd stop drinking i-if she woke up," Piper fought her tears but they were harder and harder to keep at bay, "b-but she's not going to wake up, so I owe it to her to get my life together. Since she can't."


	29. Act 5, Scene 5

** **

**ANNABETH**

_She had to tell him. It wouldn't be that hard._

_The three words that once were terrifying and exciting and new,_

_were now changed and somehow she found something that was harder to say_

_than I love you._

_I don't love you anymore._

_She just had to say that,_

_and go,_

_leave,_

_just leave._

_She reached for the bottle - maybe as support or liquid courage,_

_maybe as a weapon._

_ _

**PIPER**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Piper didn't know why she was here...okay, that was a lie. She knew perfectly well why she was here - to see Annabeth, at least one more time. It was a week before Christmas, and the Chases said they'd take Annabeth off life support right after. Piper didn't know the date, and she was glad for that. Maybe she could go on with her life and pretend that Annabeth was still here, attached to the machines that kept her alive, that she wasn't buried under ground in a random graveyard somewhere. 

Piper hovered near the door. It was the first time when she was at the hospital during the day, and pale, watery grey light came in through the open blinds, making the colours seep out of the room. When Piper finally got the courage to come closer to the bed she realised that Annabeth didn't look like an angel anymore. Her skin was sallow, her cheeks hollow, her hair pale and tangled. She was still beautiful, she was still  _alive._ Piper felt her heart twist as she looked down at the girl, her hands tightening on the bouquet she had in her hands.

"I brought you flowers," she whispered. It sounded stupid now, in the daylight, talking to someone who couldn't even hear you. But Piper had to talk, at least this one last time. She put the roses on the little table next to Annabeth's bed, "I haven't...," she bit her lip, sitting on the chair that somehow over the weeks had become hers, "drank, in two days. I know its not much but...," she took a shaky breath, "I don't know if you can hear me, or if you even care. I don't even know if you want to stay alive, hooked up to all the machines. Maybe you want to go. M-Maybe...," she had to swallow because her voice was trembling, just like her heart, "I'm selfish, I know. I want you to stay but...," she took Annabeth's hand in hers and felt the familiar warmth. Her eyes filled with tears as her chest clenched painfully, "If I could keep you here, then I would. It's not up to me, God you don't even know me. But I'll stop drinking, properly I promise, and even if you decide to go...Annabeth, if you really want to leave then go. I won't hold it against you, I won't hold anything against you, but...but I wish you'd wake up. I wish." She sniffled and fought a sob as Annabeth's hand slipped from her grasp. Why did it  _hurt_ so much? "This is goodbye, I guess. I won't come again. So just...if you want to stay, then it's okay. I'll take you out for coffee and we can walk in the park or see a movie, we can actually properly  _meet_ ," she brushed a strand of hair from Annabeth's forehead, the way she did hundreds of times before, "I'm sorry I can't be here until the end," Piper whispered, and a tear raced down her cheek to drip on to her shirt. She opened her mouth but her voice died in her throat. She had nothing more to say, so she just leaned down and kissed Annabeth's forehead, "Goodbye, angel," she murmured, "Goodbye."

***

Piper didn't know what happened. She was heart broken, of course that could be the reason. But she promised herself, no - she promised  _Annabeth_ \- that she wouldn't drink, and yet here she was, surrounded by her friends, an empty glass in her hand, her world spinning pleasantly. She hated herself for enjoying it. 

"Why are you at the hospital anyway?" Leo mumbled. He was drunk. She was drunk. They were  _all_ drunk. 

"It doesn't matter," Piper wouldn't go back there again anyway. With a trembling hand she poured herself another drink. It was all over, she said her goodbyes. Then why did she feel like she had moved on without finishing a chapter in her life?

"Seriously," Leo whined, resting his elbows on the bar. His eyes were bright and sparkling, "Just tell meeee...I'm so curious!"

Piper shook her head, feeling like her brain was rattling about in her head, "You've got your secrets - I've got mine," she mumbled, downing her drink in one gulp. Leo wouldn't tell her why the police picked up Frank, so why should she trust him enough to tell him about Annabeth? She was done with all of it, she wasn't going to depend on her friends anymore, they were too busy with their own lives, and maybe it was a sign that Piper should mind her own business as well, if she had then she wouldn't have had been in this mess in the first place.

"But I'm your best friendddd," Leo whined. Piper rolled her eyes. 

"You never tell me stuff anymore," she said, and then hiccuped. She was bitter and heartbroken and angry and miserable, so Leo really shouldn't have been pushing her.

"Yeah I do," Leo protested with an adorable pout that once would've made Piper's heart melt. But her heart was left in hospital room number six, so it didn't make her feel anything. She was dizzy though, the alcohol messing with her thoughts and emotions. 

"You never said you were in love with that Frank guy," Piper mumbled, suddenly remembering how the two had looked at each other at the hospital. Annabeth wouldn't look at her like that. She wouldn't look at her, ever. Leo chocked on his drink but at this point Piper was too drunk to care. She hated him, she hated the Chases, she hated everyone, including herself.

"What?!" Leo protested, "I am not in love with him!"

Piper gave him a tired, annoyed look. Jesus what was with people and being in denial nowadays? "I saw the way you looked at him...," she hiccuped again, "at the hospital."

"You're not only stupid, you're blind too," Leo groaned, but his blushing face contradicted his words. Piper was done - if he didn't want to admit his feelings to himself, then that was his business. She didn't care anymore. She saw the boy chewing at his lip, looking torn, and some of her anger evaporated. Leo wasn't the one taking Annabeth off life support, he wasn't to blame for anything.

"You're such a liar, Leo," a startled, hysterical laugh escaped from Piper, but then she automatically felt guilty - she shouldn't be laughing, "You should go for it," she told her friend quietly, her words slurring together. She wanted him to be happy, despite everything, at least one of them should be. Jason looked miserable, as did Mike. They didn't deserve all the pain God dumped on them, "he's right there, don't be an idiot like Nico and Jason. Just tell him how you feel. Not everyone's as lucky..."

"I don't feel anything," Leo scoffed, his face burning. Suddenly Michael appeared next to them, dampening the atmosphere further.

"Hey there Mikey," Leo swayed and almost slipped off of his stool. Piper didn't want to have a conversation, didn't want to pretend she was okay, so she took Leo's drink right out of his grip and finished it. She might as well get absolutely hammered, and forget her problems for a moment, "That was mine!" the Latino protested. 

"You should stop drinking," Mike said worriedly. Leo slumped against Piper, and he felt weirdly heavy and warm against her chest, like something constricting her. Sloppily, he poured himself a drink, which Mike watched with a weird look. 

"'S fine," the Latino reassured him. Piper's eyes ached so she ran a hand down her face, as if to wipe away all her pain and sadness. God, why was the pain not stopping? It was almost Christmas and here she was, feeling sorry for himself, while Annabeth was in her bed all alone. Piper wondered if the nurse turned on the fairy-lights for her. 

"I should go see her...," the words slipped out before she could stop them. 

"See who?" Michael's voice sounded muffled. After a moment he stood up and left, and Piper felt bad for being glad. 

"I want to...," she frowned and puffed out her cheeks. She wanted to talk to someone, to have someone comfort her, but how could she? Everybody was so sad, they couldn't take care of themselves, so how could they take care of each other? Leo's eyes travelled to the dance-floor and when she glanced over she saw Percy standing there alone, looking lost. Leo stumbled towards him and then shoved his drink into the boy's hand. Piper looked helplessly at her own glass and sighed - she needed to stop drinking. When Leo came back the girl walked across the unsteady ground and passed her drink to Percy too. The boy drank and the world spun and when Piper turned around, Leo had disappeared.

Piper slumped at the bar and put her head in her hands, trying to breathe properly. Her body shook, and a sob bubbled up in her chest. It was that helpless kind of sadness, when you know nothing will make it better. You just kind of have to let yourself feel it. So Piper just cried quietly and then quickly moved to the shadows, so nobody saw her. Everything hurt, she just wanted to go to sleep and forget about everything that went wrong in her life. She wanted to forget about Annabeth, but at the same time wanted to keep her in her mind, all of the times that she was there to ground Piper, and remind her with no words that life wasn't that bad. Piper wanted to remember her - someone had to. 

Her stomach protested and the girl groaned as a cold sweat broke out over her body. She was going to be sick. She blindly stumbled past the blissfully unaware people and towards the bathroom. The door was closed when she pushed at it, but she could hear Leo's soft murmur on the other side. He was on the phone, probably with Frank, but Piper didn't care.

"Leo! Are you in there!" she knocked on the door, her breathing shallow, the world spinning. She just wanted it to end, "I'm gonna be sick!"


	30. Act 5, Scene 6

** **

**PIPER**

"I'm getting married," Leo said, sitting opposite her. Piper blinked at him, and then frowned,

"What?" she asked, "Why? You're  _nineteen_?"

She hadn't drunk for three weeks. It was hard, she wasn't going to say it wasn't. She was irritable and angry, with random mood swings controlling her day. But AA helped her, and over time it became easier to get over her addiction. She wasn't completely done yet, didn't think she'd ever be 'cured,' but it was a good place to start. She owed it to Annabeth. She had struggled alone (not counting her fellow alcoholics) and none of her friends knew about it. She didn't really know about their stuff either - all she knew was that Nico and Jason were finally together, and that the random blonde Percy came to the Christmas party was actually Luke the Lone Wolf (crazy, right?!) and that Gwen moved out and now Michael was with Octavian. She was glad. And she was glad that she was glad, because she was done being bitter. And now Leo dropped this massive bomb on her.

"There's...stuff I never told you about, or anyone else," Leo brushed his hair from his face nervously, "Pipes, did you know I'm an illegal immigrant?"

Piper chocked on her drink and wheezed for breath. Leo winced, "You're  _what_?!"

"Basically yeah, long story," Leo said quickly, as if he just wanted to get it out, "but this guy in college - Dylan, dunno if you remember him, he did engineering with me - he found out, and basically wanted me to marry him for a green card and um...," he swallowed as Piper stared, wide eyed, trying to process this information, "I didn't want to tell you because I thought you'd think differently about me, but Dylan was blackmailing me into paying him because I didn't want to marry him. That's why I needed the extra money I got at the Shapeshifter, but Frank-" his voice faltered, and then softened, "I never put Frank into the equation. But now he offered me the same thing Dylan did. Except it's different. Because I said yes." Piper stared at him, open mouthed. A heavy silence settled over them, "P-Pipes?" the boy's voice trembled, "Say something."

"For the past month I've been going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings," Piper blurted, and it was Leo's turn to stare at her in disbelief. Her heart pounded, "and the reason I was at the hospital was because I spent almost every evening sitting at the beside of a girl in a coma who's now...," Piper's voice broke and she fought the tears that threatened to spill at the mention of Annabeth, "she's gone now. They took her off life support. I haven't drunk for three weeks."

They stared at each other.

"Christ," Leo whispered weakly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Piper angrily wiped away her tears. She hated crying. Leo's shoulders slumped,

"I know it's dumb, but I thought you wouldn't like me anymore."

The situation was so absurd that Piper couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up inside her throat. She pulled Leo into her arms and squeezed, "Yeah that  _is_ dumb."

"I'm so sorry Pipes," Leo mumbled, clinging onto the girl. Piper missed him so much, "For everything, for not being here for you when you needed me-"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Piper pulled away and wiped her eyes. She offered Leo a watery smile, "I just have one question."

"What?" Leo smiled, though he had tears in his eyes too. 

"Can I be your groomsman?"

**ANNABETH**

The big guy opened the door and raised an eyebrow at Annabeth. She cleared her throat, her heart twisting painfully.  _Is that her boyfriend?_

"I take it you're not Annabeth, are you?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Nope," the man said, popping the 'p.' He offered Annabeth a warm smile, "Upstairs, first door on the left."

"Thanks so much," Annabeth said breathlessly. She never saw Piper - the mystery girl who came to her practically everyday the last few months. She just heard her voice - soft and warm and kind. Annabeth needed kindness. People had no idea what it was like, to be trapped in your body, in eternal darkness. Annabeth's days were silent and dark, and filled with her own thoughts. She wanted to go, she was sure of that, especially after her parents stopped visiting. She just felt heavy, and she wanted to move on. 

But Piper...she made her stay. Annabeth had no idea why the girl randomly decided to talk to someone in a coma, but she was glad. Piper brought her back from the edge she was about to topple over, slowly and carefully led her back to where she started. Annabeth fell in love with that voice, with her loneliness and sadness, and her funny little stories and beautiful poems. 

She heard her parents come back, and their voices didn't sound familiar again. When she heard how fiercely Piper fought with them over Annabeth's life, the girl became determined to wake up. And she did. It wasn't easy, but after hours of struggling to feel her own body, she was pulled up, like from water, and she could see again and feel and- but that was all too long to explain. The nurse said she was asleep for two years, and that she had been hours away from being taken off life support.

Her parents were monsters, she heard everything they said, about how incontinent she was. How could a stranger care for her more than the people who raised her?! Annabeth thanked the nurse and that same day asked to be moved to a different room. The nurse kept her parents away and after three days Annabeth was let out of the hospital. Her old flat had been sold so she stayed in a hotel for a bit with the little money she had left in her bank account, and tried to figure out how two years of her life had passed her by, and comprehend how much the world had changed.

She was weak and frail and sick. She laid in bed and tried to eat, and stay awake because she was scared that if she fell asleep she wouldn't wake up again.

It took weeks, but eventually Annabeth was strong enough to begin stringing her life back together. The thing she wanted most was to find the mysterious Piper, her angel, her lifesaver, whoever she was. Annabeth got a phone and bought essentials, she went back to the hospital and asked the nurse there about the girl who visited her. The woman only had her name, but Annabeth found her on facebook - which apparently still existed after two years - and that's how she ended up in this random flat block at nine in the evening. 

When she knocked on the first door to the left, she didn't actually think she'd meet Piper. It seemed surreal, like a dream. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe Annabeth had imagined the voice, and Piper wasn't real. 

A skinny boy with curly hair and a towel around his shoulders opened the door, "Can I help you?" he asked, frowning at Annabeth. Her heart skipped a beat and for a second she couldn't speak.  _It was all a dream..._

"I-I...," she stuttered, "I'm looking for Piper."

The boy stared at her. Then his eyes widened. He turned on his heel and disappeared inside the flat and Annabeth heard him yell, "Piper! It's for you!"

Gods, she was real. It was all real. Annabeth wanted to run. Her hands felt clammy, her heart was pounding, her insides twisting. She hadn't felt that in so long that it seemed weird and alien to her, but before she could run away like the coward she was, the girl appeared.

Up until this point Piper had just been a name, and a voice. But now she was a real  _person,_ a beautiful person, with bright eyes and choppy brown hair, dressed in a tank top and marvel shorts. Annabeth forgot how to breathe. Their eyes met and Piper froze. They stared at each other for a second, and Annabeth felt like she might fall into a coma all over again. Her hands trembled, her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. Her vision blurred with tears. 

"Annabeth," Piper whispered, like she couldn't believe it. Her familiar voice sent a shiver through Annabeth and she couldn't keep the stupid smile off of her face, despite her tears,

"Hi," she murmured.

"B-But...," Piper opened and closed her mouth, as if she couldn't understand what was happening, "They took you off life support..."

"I managed to wake up before they did," Annabeth shrugged awkwardly, trying to get her body to stop aching, "Thanks to you. That's why I'm here really, to say thank you-"

Before Annabeth could finish, Piper came barrelling at her and suddenly there were warm, skinny arms wrapping around her, and a body pressing against hers.

"You're  _awake_ ," Piper was sobbing into Annabeth's shoulder and the blonde got over the shock of being touched enough so she could wrap her arms around Piper. She smelled like apple shampoo, and she was warm. So warm. Annabeth hugged her tightly and took a shaky breath, her eyes prickling with tears. Her mind tried to understand what happened, but how can you explain something like this? How can you comprehend being asleep for two years and waking up only to find that you've fallen in love? "Christ you're awake."

"And you're real," Annabeth smiled. Piper pulled away and laughed and looking at her, Annabeth couldn't help but laugh too. She pressed her forehead against Piper's, unable to stop herself. Her heart felt like it was going to burst and Annabeth was sure that wasn't healthy. Piper cupped her face in her shaking hands. And then suddenly they were kissing, and it was warm and helpless and desperate. Their lips trembled against each other and Annabeth never wanted to stop, never wanted to let Piper go. She had never felt more alive.

"S-Sorry," Piper pulled away slightly. She looked half mad, and all kinds of gorgeous. 

"Don't be," Annabeth whispered. She wound her fingers through Piper's and they just stood there in the hallway, forehead pressed together, holding hands, and telling themselves it was real. Finally Annabeth stepped back and let go of the brunette. She cleared her throat and stuck her hand out, "Hi, I'm Annabeth Chase."

Piper's lips tugged up into a lopsided smile as she took Annabeth's hand into her own warm one, "Piper McLean. Nice to finally meet you."


	31. EPILOGUE

**A Year Later**

** **

**LEO**

Piper adjusted his tie, making sure the correct parts were tucked into Leo's shirt properly. The Latino was glad she did it because his own hands were shaking so much he was sure he'd just fuck it up. Actually, all of him was shaking. His heart was pounding, his palms were clammy, and his cheeks were flushed. Nerves were a bitch. Piper straightened up and flicked one of Leo's curls from his forehead. She smiled at him reassuringly. She was Leo's best 'man', and so in honour of that she wore a nicely cut suit and a pair of trainers. Her hair fell to her shoulders in artful, choppy waves.

"You look wonderful," she said, smoothing Leo's suit down. She looked like a proud mother, "So stop shaking so much."

"Easy for you to say," Leo puffed out his cheeks and let out a shaky breath, "You're not the one getting married."

"Hey," Piper smiled, "You love him. He loves you. It's all good."

A warmth filled Leo's chest and it eased the nerves ever so slightly, "Yeah, I'm just being a hyperactive spaz again."

Leo turned to the mirror and looked at himself. He wore a nice suit, nothing too flashy, and his hair fell into his eyes in the same messy curls as usual. Frank confessed that he liked Leo best like that - messy and crazy, the way he was normally. Never in his life did Leo think he'd be  _glad_ to get married at twenty (almost). He wanted to explore the world and party and be young, but now he didn't feel an ounce of doubt as he prepared to be joined with Frank forever. Because exploring and partying and being young sounded even better with that big idiot. Leo smiled fondly. 

Piper passed him a small shot of whiskey, and didn't even give it a second glance. Leo was proud of her for staying away from the alcohol,

"It'll steady your nerves," she said. Leo nodded and took the shot, feeling the liquid courage burn down his throat pleasantly. A soft knock sounded on the door and then Charon strode in, followed by Clarisse from the fight club. Even in her black dress and with makeup on, she looked ready to murder someone. Charon was in his suit (as per usual), but his sunglasses were gone, revealing coal-black eyes.

"Message from the groom," Clarisse boomed and with a smile that was half friendly and half wicked she handed Leo a piece of paper folded in half.

"He could've just texted me," Leo sighed, feeling a blush rising to his cheeks.

"Hey!" Piper smacked his arm playfully, "It's romantic."

"He did want to text you," Charon interrupted with his steady voice, "However Madame Zhang forced him to write the letter instead."

"Well thank you," Piper said hurriedly, as she ushered Clary and Charon back out, "for the message! See you guys at the altar-"

"But-" Clarisse protested.

" _Bye,_ Clary," Piper interjected. The redhead rolled her eyes but let Charon drag her down the corridor. Piper closed the door with a sigh and Leo unfolded the letter from Frank with trembling hands.

_Hi,_

_Grandma made me write this, instead of text or call. She says its more traditional._

_Anyway, chances are you're just as scared as I am (and if you're not then you need to put the alcohol away)_

_But i just wanted to say that it's all good 'cause I'm scared too and so we can be scared together, I guess?_

_God this is lame._

_I can't wait to see you. I love you. Don't freak out too much._

_Frank x_

Leo smiled at the paper and took a deep breath. 

"What?" Piper grinned. Leo sniffled and tried not to let the happy tears fall  _yet._ Instead he just looked up at Piper, his heart pounding, feeling a smile bloom on his face,

"I'm getting  _married_ ," he whispered breathlessly. Piper just grinned harder.

**MICHAEL**

He woke up with an angel next to him. Mike groggily blinked at the bright light tumbling in through the big window, illuminating the room. Octavian was snuggled up to him, still fast asleep. And Mike could just stare. At the beginning of their tentative relationship he was scared that it'd turn old and stale like his and Gwen's, but a year later Octavian still took his breath away. 

Michael just looked at him for a few minutes. In the early morning sunlight the boy seemed to glow, bundled up in the white blankets so only his pale, bare shoulder and neck stuck out. His pale eyelashes fluttered against his lightly freckled cheeks as his practically white-blonde hair fell in messy waves against his forehead. He was so beautiful it almost physically hurt. Mike carefully tugged the blankets down, exposing more of Octavian's milk skin. He leaned forward and kissed the boys skinny shoulder, and then pressed a line of butterfly-light kisses up his beck and jaw line. Octavian's eyes fluttered open, revealing his baby blues. He looked confused for a second. And then he smiled and Mike swore his heart stopped.

"Michael," Octavian whispered, and reached out to touch the man's cheek. Mike smiled, feeling like his heart might burst,

"Hey," he said, his voice hoarse. He cupped Octavian's hand, the one on his face, and turned it so he could kiss Octavian's wrist. The boy shivered,

"You need to shave," he complained fondly. Mike grinned and hauled the boy closer, rolling on top of him. Octavian tried to push him away playfully, "Get off me you ape!" 

" _I_ need to shave?!" Mike snorted, and then proceeded to attack Octavian's neck with kisses, making sure to scratch the boy with his beard. Octavian was laughing breathlessly, his hands beating uselessly against Mike's muscular back. 

"You're such an idiot," he giggled when Michael pulled away. Octavian's cheeks were flushed, his eyes sparkling, "I hate you." 

Mike smiled and brushed Octavian's unruly hair from his forehead so he could kiss it, "Good morning to you too."

Octavian's expression softened and he pulled Michael down for a kiss. Mike pressed him down into the pillows as familiar warmth filled his body. He cradled Tav protectively in his arms and kissed him gently but passionately. The blonde's fingers wound themselves in Michael's hair and his giggles turned into little moans. Mike couldn't think of anything he wanted to do more than have Octavian, right there and then, in  _their_ bed. 

Suddenly Octavian yanked him back by the hair, eyes wide,

"Ouch!" Mike rubbed the back of his head, "way to kill the mood, Tavvie."

"The wedding!" Octavian sounded panicked. It clicked in Mike's mind after a second.  _Shit,_ of course! Leo and Frank were getting married.

"Fuck," Mike groaned as Octavian elbowed his way out of bed. 

"Don't  _fuck_ me, idiot," Octavian hissed. Mike raised an amused eyebrow and Tav rolled his eyes, "I mean yeah, please do, just not  _now,_ " He pulled his shirt out roughly from the closet and started to look for his trousers. Mike watched him lazily, contently. He couldn't remember ever being so happy. Octavian noticed he didn't move and glared at his boyfriend,

"Did you not hear the bit where I said that there's a  _wedding_?!" he demanded. Mike rolled his eyes and dragged himself out of bed. He came over to Tav and wrapped an arm around the boy's warm, bare stomach. He kissed him quickly,

"Such a drama queen."

**NICO**

Nico surveyed the roses, biting his lip, arms crossed over his chest. He  _knew_ he shouldn't have been working on the wedding day, but he just  _had_ to make sure the flower arrangements were correct. Not satisfied, Nico knelt at the main table in the hall that was rented for the reception and re-arranged a bunch of red and white roses, trying to heighten the aesthetic. He groaned in frustration when he pricked his finger, and quickly put it in his mouth, standing up. He sighed - he wasn't going to do much better than this. Besides, in half an hour he couldn't really change much more.

He heard the door open and a dishevelled looking Jason strode in. Nico's heart skipped a beat. Jason looked like someone out of a movie - perfectly tousled blonde hair, a suit that made him look like a model...and he was all Nico's.

"There you are!" Jason said with obvious relief, "Rachel said you might be messing with the flowers again."

"I just want them to be perfect," Nico sighed. Jason shook his head and plucked a petal out of Nico's hair. 

"There's no point playing with them now. Besides, they're perfect," Jason said, but he wasn't looking at the flowers, his eyes trained on Nico. The boy felt himself flush,

"You're staring again, Grace," he said, "it's creepy," it was  _not_ creepy. Jason leaned forward so his and Nico's faces were inches away, their breaths mingling, 

"You look so good right now," the blonde whispered, eyes darkening. Nico shivered and Jason gripped him by the hips, pulling him closer so their bodies were pressed together. He bit his lip to stop a moan from escaping. He was so busy with the wedding flowers lately that he barely had time for Jason. And clearly the blonde didn't like that, "too good. I want to mess you up," he leaned forward and nipped at Nico's neck. The Italian inhaled shakily as Jason's hand slipped underneath his shirt.

"J-Jas, not here," he gasped. Jason grinned at him,

"Why not?"

"Leo will  _kill_ us," Nico mumbled, "besides, anyone could walk in."

"That's part of the fun," Jason suddenly pulled Leo up and sat him down on the edge of a table. Nico felt himself hardening, blushing wildly, 

"Jason we're not-"

Jason kissed him, hard and fierce and almost angry. His hands started undoing Nico's buttons and the Italian couldn't do anything else but moan,

"I don't care if anyone sees," Jason whispered, licking a strip up his neck. Nico was done protesting so he wrapped his legs around the other man, "I want you right  _now."_

"Better get on with it then," Nico pulled him back up for another kiss, "Wedding's in half an hour."

**LUKE**

Luke and Percy were perched on a little wall outside the church. It was a warm morning, and they were in charge of making sure nothing fucked up in the church, and that everyone was where they were meant to fucking be. Well, they weren't really paying attention because currently Percy was busy excitedly telling Luke about the newest episode of Stranger Things, and Luke was too busy staring at Percy, amused.

To think that he almost let him go made Luke want to puke, but also to randomly pull Percy into his arms and kiss him, and make sure he was real.

"...and then there's Eleven and oh my God she had these really cool telekinetic powers," Percy was grinning, waving his arms around, "but my favourite is still Dustin, he's such a dope-"

"I love you," Luke interrupted him and Percy's expression softened immediately. Luke did that a lot - reminded Percy that he loved him. Because he  _did,_ he loved him so much sometimes he couldn't breathe, and he wanted Percy to know that. Sometimes he'd say it when he saw the boy cooking, or after they had sex, or when they woke up in the morning. Or sometimes he'd shout it at the boy during a fight, or whisper it to him when they were out in public. And every-time Percy's shoulders would slump and he'd smile that adorable smile of his,

"I love you too, Luke," he whispered now, and pulled Luke in for a quick, warm kiss before continuing as if the blonde hadn't interrupted, "but yeah Dustin, such a bad-ass. In like a weird sense, cause he's a child..." 

"Oi!" Reyna's sudden shout startled both of them. The girl had her arms crossed over her chest and was looking down at the two boys, fuming. God knows where she came from. Even Luke found her scary, and he survived a  _war,_ "Aren't you meant to be making sure that everything's fine?!"

"But everything  _is_ fine," Percy said innocently.

"Don't get smart with me, Jackson," Reyna growled. Calypso appeared behind her and looped an arm around the taller girl's waist,

"Rey, chill," she said fondly, "It's alright. I'm sure Luke and Percy are doing a great job."

"We are," the two agreed in unison, even though they really weren't. Reyna sighed,

"We're gonna go find our seats," she told the two, "and you guys better direct everyone else to their pews or they'll be blood."

She sent them one last glare and Calypso dragged her off with a sheepish grin. They disappeared inside the church and Luke and Percy exchanged a look. Then they both burst out laughing. A car pulled into the parking lot and several people spilled out. 

"Alright guys!" a tall woman in a creamy dress clapped her hands, "organise yourselves."

There were three men with her, in suits with messy hair and happy grins. 

"Sorry, who are you?" Percy asked politely. The woman turned around with a practised smile,

"Hi!" she exclaimed, in a way a teacher might, "My name is Hera, and alongside these three I'm friends of Piper from al-" she stopped herself and cleared her throat awkwardly, "We're here for the wedding."

"Uh...right," Luke stood up. The last thing he wanted was to be a tour guide but someone had to do it. Besides he'd have loads more time with Percy later. He gave the boy a 'duty calls' smile and then sauntered into the church, followed by Piper's weird ass friends and already thinking to the next moment he'd get alone with his blue-eyed boyfriend.

**FRANK**

He hadn't been so terrified since the time he got arrested. But that was a stupid comparison - back then he had been furious and petrified, now he was nervous and excited. Was he having second thoughts about this marriage? Hell no. Even as he stood in front of the altar, ready to have a panic attack, he didn't regret one single thing. The things he felt for Leo...well, he never felt for anyone else. And even if the boy didn't need a green card, Frank would've proposed to him anyway. Maybe not as fast, but the outcome would be the same. If they were destined to be miserable together and end in divorce, then Frank was ready for that, if only he got to have Leo right now, if only they got a shot at happiness.

"You'll be fine," Clarisse said reassuringly. She and Charon were Frank's joined groomsmen, and he was glad for their support. The church was full of people, most of them Leo's friends. Frank recognised the twins and Hazel and some other postmen from Hermes', and Iris the boss of Under the Rainbow. There was the mismatched row of Leo's closest friends, going from Piper's girlfriend Annabeth, through Mike and Octavian and Nico and Jason and Luke and Percy. There were some other people but looking at them made Frank even more nervous. He spotted his grandma, sitting in the first row. She was dressed in a simple, elegant dress, and smiled at Frank reassuringly, something she rarely did. 

The door at the end of the small church opened and Frank's heart skipped a beat. Then his breath caught when he saw Leo - not that he looked much different than usual. Frank couldn't believe he came to his own wedding with his hair that dishevelled, but he loved it either way. He couldn't look away as Leo walked toward him, looking nervous and giddy, sending Frank an excited smile. Piper walked next to him in a suit, her hand firmly in Leo's. Frank couldn't breathe. 

"Hi," Leo whispered as he came to stand opposite Frank. Piper stood behind them and the vicar started talking, but honestly Frank heard jack shit. He numbly repeated the vicar's words and all he could think was -  _He's mine, he's mine, he's really mine._ The idea that he was linked to Leo forever, that they could spend the rest of their lives together, was something Frank couldn't quite believe was real. The vicar's words broke through his thoughts suddenly,

"You may kiss the groom."

Frank was glad the vicar said that because he was pretty sure he couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore. He wrapped an arm around Leo's waist and pulled the Latino to him. The kiss was short, but kinda intense, and the people from Argo Street started cheering wildly. Frank's heart pounded, and when he pulled away, Leo was looking at him with big, bright eyes,

"Let's not get too steamy," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Jesus is watching."

Frank just kissed him again. Gods, he loved that idiot. 

**ANNABETH**

The tables were arranged in a semi circle around the dance floor, which had been Annabeth's choice. She had quite the hand for architecture it turned out. People were grouped together at the tables, but that had been all Leo's and Frank's decision. Annabeth herself got a little table with Jason, Nico and Piper. She saw Frank's grandmother sitting with Mr D, one of Piper's friends, and with Coach Hedge and Chiron, the bosses from Argo Street. All the men were clearly to trying to get the woman's attention, which was quite funny. 

Annabeth watched fondly as Frank spun Leo around on the dance floor. Both of them were giggling like school children and it was so adorable and endearing that people couldn't help but grin. Annabeth was so happy for both of them. She never expected the people on Argo Street to become her family, and yet they had, and it was amazing. Annabeth needed help getting back to the real world, and they definitely helped, so a year later her coma seemed just like a bad dream. 

Charon pulled Piper onto the dance floor. It was tradition, for the best man and the bridesmaid to dance, but since there were no bridesmaids, Charon and Piper had to dance. It was elegant but stiff, thanks to Charon, but Annabeth still couldn't keep her eyes off of her girlfriend. Even in a suit Piper looked free and wild, her hair whirling around her whenever she got spun around. Then Charon swapped with Clarisse.

Annabeth  _knew_ she shouldn't have been jealous, especially of Clary who was as straight as you could be, but she still couldn't help but feel uncomfortable watching the two girls. Nico, who up to this point had been busy whispering to Jason, turned to her,

"You should go dance with her," he said. Annabeth got to her feet and made it across the dance-floor,

"'Scuse me," she smiled at Clary, "I'd like a dance with my girlfriend."

Clarisse just smirked and let go of Piper, moving away. The brunette raised an eyebrow at Annabeth as the girl took Clary's place,

"What?" Annabeth asked innocently as she and Piper started moving. The other couples took this as a sign to dance as well, and people swarmed the dance-floor. Piper leaned in close so Annabeth could hear her,

"For a second there you looked jealous," she said with a grin. Annabeth rolled her eyes,

"You  _wish_ , beauty queen," she leaned forward and kissed Annabeth, their dance forgotten. She felt the brunette smile into the kiss and Annabeth smiled to. God, she was so happy, "I love you," he mumbled, pulling away. Piper smiled and tucked a piece of Annabeth's hair behind her ear,

"Love you too, wise girl."

**JASON**

Jason finished his bro-dance with Percy, which left them both laughing, and came back over to his table. It was littered with plates with some leftovers, still not taken by the waiters, and glasses of juice, coke and alcohol. Piper was sprawled in one of the chairs, a bowl of strawberries in her lap. It was late, and everyone who wasn't drinking was getting pretty exhausted. Jason vaguely knew about Piper's drinking problem, and was glad the girl was sober.

"Hey," he sat down next to her. She offered him some strawberries. The lights were dim in the hall, a disco ball twirling around and casting lights all around the room. Some people, like Charon and Madame Zhang, had already left and the ones remaining where jamming out on the dance-floor. The girls lost the heels and the men (and Piper) lost the ties and everyone was dancing with everyone. 

"Where's Nico?" Piper asked, popping another strawberry into her mouth. She had a sleepy smile on her face, 

"Err...last time I saw him he was debating with Hazel and Chiron by the bar," Jason shrugged. He reached over and ruffled Piper's hair, "Who knew we would've turned out like this, huh?"

"Yeah," Piper smiled as her eyes went to Annabeth, double-dancing with Reyna and Coach Hedge, "But I'm glad everything ended the way it did."

"It's not the end," Jason smiled, "I think it's just the beginning."

"Don't be cheesy, Jas," Piper laughed, and then stood up, "Unfortunately I have to be a killjoy and get Annabeth to go home now. It's almost four in the morning, and I'm exhausted. Besides, I'm sure Frank and Leo want their honey moon to start asap," she winked at Jason, "see ya Monday."

Jason waved at her, "See you, babe."

She disappeared in the dancing crowd and Jason slumped into his chair, smiling to himself. He was...content. Yes, that was the right word. Happy and content and just...there was no point trying to describe the feeling. He was just glad everything was the way it was, and that he had Nico, and that Pipes had Annabeth and Leo had Frank and Mike had Octavian.

Nico popped out of nowhere, standing in front of Jason, "Jas?" he looked asleep on his feet, and it was pretty adorable.

"Yeah?" he asked softly. Nico plopped down in his lap and curled against Jason's chest. The blonde smiled, feeling his heart expand as he wrapped his arms securely around Nico, and kissed his forehead.

"'M really tired," Nico admitted quietly, "Is it okay if we go home?"

"Sure," Jason nudged him with his nose so Nico craned his neck up for a short, sweet kiss, "I'm kinda tired too."

"Okay," Nico smiled and snuggled up against Jason's chest. The blonde laughed,

"Hey! Don't fall asleep here!"

"You can't stop me...," Nico mumbled. Jason rolled his eyes but he kept Nico in his arms as his eyes swept the room. His friends, his family, they were all here. And Jason was happy. Leo came over, flushed and happy. 

"Hey, you might wanna take him home," the Latino grinned at Leo and when Jason looked down at him, he saw that the boy was asleep in his arms.

"Yeah," he looked at Leo, "I'm so happy for you, man."

"Yeah, me too," Leo glanced at Frank, still in the crowd, and smiled, "I kind of want you all to politely get the fuck out so we can get to the good part-"

"I don't want the details Leo," Jason rolled his eyes, and he stood up, carrying Nico bridal style, "Call me with all the gross details later. I'm gonna go."

"See you Monday, buddy," Leo said, and melted back into the crowd. Jason steered to the exit, Nico still in his arms. He nodded in goodbye at the people he passed and in no time he was outside into the cold night. It was snowing. Jason smiled and Nico frowned in his sleep, one of his hands clenching into Jason's shirt. The blonde kissed his nose,

"C'mon, let's get you home," he said, more to himself than to Nico, and started down the road, glad that Nico was as light as a feather.

**OCTAVIAN**

He walked into their flat above the pub after Michael, yawning. His feet were dying and he was exhausted, but happy. Michael stretched his arms over his head and mirrored Octavian's yawn. The blonde smiled at him,

"I'm gonna shower," he said.

"I'll make tea. Want some?" Michael asked. Octavian nodded and then shuffled to the bathroom. As he stood underneath the warm spray of water, Octavian thought to himself a year ago. He was silent and broken and depressed and suicidal. He had almost ended his life. And now he was here, with the man he loved, with friends, with a voice. Who knew someone's life could change so much in twelve short months? Sure, Octavian still had nightmares and he never forgot about that night in June, but it was just that - a night in June. He couldn't remember the specific date anymore, the past was buried, thanks to Michael.

Octavian came into the kitchen in his pyjama shorts and one of Michael's too-big shirts. As soon as he came in, Michael passed him a cup of steaming tea and the blonde took it gratefully, taking a warm sip.

"You're shivering," Michael frowned, "Are you cold?" 

Octavian shrugged, "Might be getting ill."

Michael pushed back his hair to press his big hand against his forehead. Octavian's eyes fluttered shut at the touch as he sipped his tea, and then Michael's hand slid down to cup his cheek. The blonde's heart started pounding and he put his cup on the counter, letting Michael wrap his arms around his waist and pick him up, putting him back down on the counter. Octavian's legs automatically wrapped around Michael's waist and pulled him closer. Michael kissed his jawline,

"I told you not to take off the blazer," he whispered, peppering Octavian's neck with kissed. The blonde shivered, his hands weaving themselves in Michael's short hair, "and now you're getting sick."

"It's okay you can be my nurse," Octavian smiled cheekily as Michael raised an eyebrow at him, "My sexy nurse."

"Don't push it, Tav," Michael grinned and then his hands slipped underneath his t-shirt. They were really warm and it made Octavian shiver again as he looked at his boyfriend. Michael kissed his chest through the shirt, right where his heart was, and the blonde's hands tightened in his hair. He tugged the man up for a kiss, and was startled at how fierce and hard it was, it felt like Michael was claiming him, and Octavian was perfectly okay with that. He wasn't scared that Michael would hurt him, or push him too far, he trusted him completely and whenever the man touched him, Octavian didn't think of that night in June, just about how happy he was. 

"I love you," Octavian whispered as Michael tugged his t-shirt over his head. The older man kissed Octavian's collarbone,

"I love you too," he said with a soft smile. Then the smile morphed into a grin and suddenly he picked Octavian up and carried him, willingly, to the bedroom. 

**PERCY**

They were sitting in the empty reception hall. Balloons and glitter were strewn across the floor, the tables littered with cups and plates and bottles. It was a right mess, and the disco ball was still spinning, but Percy didn't care about any of that. What he cared about was Luke, holding him in his arms, humming a song under his breath as he spun Percy around on the empty dance-floor. Percy couldn't help laughing softly as Luke twirled him into his chest and kissed him. 

"We should go home," Percy whispered, even though there was nobody to hear them. 

"Yeah," Luke agreed, his dishevelled blonde hair falling into his piercing eyes, "We should." He kissed Percy again, "Hey...," he pulled away slightly and looked around nervously. Percy frowned, detecting a sudden change in atmosphere, "I wanted to talk to you."

"Err...we're talking right now?" Percy offered, trying to calm his own nerves? Luke was practically  _never_ serious, not counting the times when they were in bed and some of their arguments. But now he looked like he had something on his mind and it scared Percy. The blonde looked at him for a moment, silent, and Percy swallowed nervously, "You don't...want to break up, do you?" he asked in a pathetically quiet voice.

Luke snorted, "Would I be dancing with you in an abandoned reception hall if I wanted to break up with you?" he raised an eyebrow. Percy relaxed,

"No, guess not," he mumbled. Luke took his hands in his gently, "What is it?" Percy blurted, "C'mon Luke you're scaring me."

"I...," Luke sighed in frustration, as if looking for words. Then he looked at Percy with unbearably warm eyes, "You know I love you, right?" he asked softly.

"'Course," Percy smiled, feeling his heart melt. Every time Luke said those three words he felt like he couldn't breathe properly. Luke bit his lip, and looked like he was thinking about something intensely. And then he let go of Percy's hands and got down on one knee. Percy's heart skipped a beat and his eyes widened, blood rushing around in his brain. Luke stared at him with determination in his eyes, and then he pulled out a small red box. Inside it was a simple, gorgeous ring.

"Percy Jackson," he started strongly, but then his voice faltered, "I love you. So much. Will you marry me?"

Percy literally thought he was going to pass out. He was waiting to wake up, because it  _had_ to be a dream. But it wasn't - it was real. Percy sucked in a trembling breath, desperately trying to keep his heart in his chest as Luke looked up at him, unsure and scared, 

"Yes," Percy whispered, and his eyes were full of tears. Luke smiled in relief,

"For a second I thought you'd say no," he said with a dramatic sigh. Percy tackled him to the floor, arms wrapping around his shoulders,

"I love you, asshole," Percy whispered, and his words ended on a sob. Luke cradled him to his chest,

"I love you too," he murmured.

__

_a_ _pub. The light is dim, the corners shadowed in darkness. Several young people sit at the counter. One of them is a beautiful, exotic girl with a feather in her hair. She has a coke in one hand, the other holding onto the hand of the blonde angel sitting at her side, smiling as if she doesn't see anyone but the girl with the feather in her hair. Next to them sits a hyper-active Latino boy, finishing his third shot of tequila, no lime, no salt. The man next to him is shaking his head fondly, and when the boy asks for another drink, the man leans in and kisses him instead. They smell like coffee. The barman is a muscular, tall, scary-looking man who is dishing drinks out to the friends in front of him like it's a corner shop. On a stool next to him is a pale boy, with pale eyes and pale hair, watching the barman with curiosity, with love. The peaceful, drowsy atmosphere is interrupted when a wild-looking dark haired boy comes barrelling in, screaming playfully as a blonde man runs in after him, chasing him around the table. The people in the pub laugh. The final boy doesn't look tired anymore, leaning back against his boyfriend, safe and comforted and warm._

_I am going now. I am leaving Argo Street and taking all my pain and suffering and misery with me. They deserve some peace, they deserve some love. You should come with me too. There's nothing left for you here._

_~Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so this fic is over. Lord that was long - but it was so fun to write. So as always, here are my thankyou's to you, my dear readers who make my day all day every day. I appreciate all of you so much, all of you even the ones with no usernames who leave Kudos and who I can't shout out x  
> So, massive thanks to;  
> Aligator  
> amura  
> AnimeBooks_684  
> Deejay13  
> Emzah  
> Grace  
> Homosauce  
> J  
> jvrbjv  
> Kanken  
> Liz  
> Nerdyfangirlfeels  
> PerriWeens  
> readandart222  
> RedTears  
> Rhaps0dy  
> Scorpius Kane  
> TopHatQueen  
> W  
> And a personal shoutout to Dark3Star, who stuck with me not only through this story but through a whole bunch of others. You're amazing, and thank you for all your comments which made me want to continue this. You're amazing xx  
> Thank you everyone (again) and see you next time x  
> PS - Go check out my new work "Inspiration" which has these and more of our fave HOO/PJO pairings in it!  
> ~Fly on

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please leave a comment! Tell me what you want to see in this fic! It would make my day! <3


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